Where Are You?
by Danger Incarnate
Summary: The greatest enemy they'd ever faced destroyed their lives 15 years ago. Now, in the midst of a traumatic identity crisis, it's happening all over again... Sequel to sss979's Mourning Light and co-written with her. If y'all don't review, I don't post...
1. Prologue

**

WHERE ARE YOU? 

**

The greatest enemy they'd ever faced destroyed their lives 15 years ago. Now, in the midst of a traumatic identity crisis, it's happening all over again... Sequel to sss979's Mourning Light and co-written with her. 

This one's my first TMNT fic (excluding the little erotic piece I did for Shannon... lol). So be nice. And please review. Sss979 and I make an interesting combination when it comes to the TMNT universe... Make sure you keep the tissues handy for this one. -Danger Incarnate 

This is more intense than anything I've ever written before. It's NOT for kids. If you can't handle blood, and you're against "heroes" who might do bad things for good reasons, do NOT read this. -sss979 

Take   
Take 'til there's nothing   
Nothing to turn to   
Nothing when you get through   
Won't you break   
Scattered pieces of all I've been   
Bowing to all I've been   
Running to   
Where are you?   
Where are you? 

Did   
You leave me unbreakable?   
You leave me frozen?   
I've never felt so cold   
I thought you were silent   
And I thought you'd left me   
For the wreckage and the waste   
On an empty beach of faith   
Was it true? 

'Cause I... I got a question   
I got a question   
Where are you? 

Scream   
Deeper I wanna scream   
I want you to hear me   
I want you to find me   
'Cause I... I want to believe   
But all I pray is wrong   
And all I claim is gone 

And I... I got a question   
I got a question   
Where are you?   
Where are you? 

-"Silence"   
Jars of Clay 

**PROLOGUE**

She was too young to be in here. Ryan knew it, but he left her alone. This was the second night in a row she'd shown up at the bar. Last night, she'd stayed 'til last call. She had to be a runaway, just looking for a warm place to sit. One drink lasted her the whole night. She sat in the corner of the bar, head down, completely covered by her long jacket, and sipped a margarita. For seven hours, the same drink. 

He knew she wasn't old enough when she walked up to the bar to _get _that drink, with her head down and her face hidden behind a wall of black hair. Well, it was sort of black. It had bright red streaks in it, too. If she _was _a runaway, she certainly didn't know how to blend in with society. She'd get picked up real quick. 

"Hey, Ryan." He turned and raised an eyebrow at a blonde woman seated at the bar. "Can I get another shot?" 

Ryan smiled and grabbed the bottle off the counter. He threw it up in the air, spun, and grabbed its neck perfectly behind his back. "Showoff," the blonde smiled. 

He winked at her as he poured the amber liquid into the shotglass. "When do you get off tonight?" she asked. 

"Gotta close up." 

"Wanna come over?" 

"Maybe," he grinned. 

"Angela's comin' over too," the woman smiled back. "Up for a threesome?" 

Ryan opened his mouth to answer, but instead just shook his head. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that she'd just asked him that, within earshot of everybody, at his work. 

"Hey, barkeep!" 

He turned. "Yeah?" 

"Got a light?" 

"There's matches on the..." he started. "Shit, where'd they go?" 

"What's this shit music you're playin' in here?" Adam laughed as the bartender searched for the matches. 

"What you don't like Pink Floyd?" Ryan grinned. Adam had been a regular since the start of the school year. He _was _old enough to be in here. Ryan knew; he'd checked. Kid reminded him of a thirteen year old. 

Ryan found a new box of matches. "Hey, heads up." 

The man held up his hands and Ryan tossed the matches, underhand behind his back. "Hey, Ry, do your Eminem impression," Denise urged. She was sitting on Adam's lap, hugging his neck to stay balanced on the barstool. 

Ryan cringed. "Guys, I don't rap too good at one in the morning." 

"Aw, come on," Adam urged. 

Ryan's eyes shifted to the dark shadow in the corner. She stood, tossed a few dollars on the table, and left. "Ry?" 

He snapped back to the conversation. "Huh?" 

"You hear me?" 

"No, what'd you say?" 

Denise eyed him suspiciously. "You trippin' or something?" 

He shook his head. "No, I'm..." He thought of making an attempt to explain the funny feeling inside of him, but pushed the idea aside. "I'm alright. Just thinking. Need another drink, Amy?" 

***

Ryan woke up slowly and glanced at the alarm clock. He either had to get up now or give himself a few more minutes and then race like hell to get to work on time. Neither sounded too appealing. 

He yawned and stretched and felt the warm body next to him press in close. He rubbed her bare shoulder and she moaned quietly. "Gotta get offa me, baby," he mumbled. "I need to get my ass to work." 

She kissed his neck, still not fully awake. "What the hell are you talkin' about?" she moaned. 

"I run two jobs, babe. Remember?" 

She sighed as she woke up and reality came back to her. Of course she knew that. She wished she didn't, though. She didn't want him to leave yet. But he pulled away with little sympathy. She opened her eyes to the bright morning sunlight and for a moment, she was blinded. Her eyes adjusted slowly and she watched Ryan as he pulled on his jeans from last night. He stretched toward the ceiling as he stood to his feet, and walked toward the window. She turned onto her back to follow him with her eyes. 

The muscles in his back rippled as he reached behind him, stretching. Her eyes ran down his arms and she noticed that he'd already found a pen and he was absently twirling it between his fingers. It was a habit of his, and an amusing one. She could never figure out how he managed to do that without dropping it. 

Ryan barely noticed what his hand was doing. He paused at the window and looked outside, and his eyes took in the scene quickly. It was ten thirty, and the sun had already risen high. He watched the people as they walked quickly through the streets, and one figure in particular caught his eye. She was standing at the mouth of an alley, looking up at the building he was in. He laughed as he recognized her. "Hey, baby, check this out," he called. 

The woman had already stood and she draped a robe over her shoulders before approaching him. "Hmm?" 

"It would appear I've got myself a stalker." 

He watched the girl carefully. There was something about her that he didn't like, and it wasn't just the technicolor hair. Something warned him, deep inside. Not that she was any real threat to him. Even living in the City of Sin, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot that scared him. In fact, he couldn't really think of anything at the moment. 

The woman looked over his shoulder. "Think she's a hooker?" Alisa suggested. 

"A hooker stalking a cop?" he chuckled. "She'd have to be pretty stupid." 

Alisa's robe wasn't tied, and her chest pressed to his bare back. "Maybe she doesn't _know _you're a cop." 

"Doubt it." 

She bit his earlobe gently, disinterested in the figure on the street. Ryan ducked away from her. "Knock it off, Lise, I gotta go." 

He ran his fingers through his hair and found his shirt on the floor. "You gonna be back tonight?" she asked. 

"No promises," he answered. "Anything could happen between now and then." He pulled the T-shirt over his head. "Hell, I could be _dead _tonight. Who knows?" 

She smiled. "All the more reason for me to keep you here," she tried. 

He grabbed his gun and his leather jacket, and put them both on methodically. He kissed her one last time, running his hands down her bare sides and around behind her. She giggled as he squeezed her gently, then pulled away. He left her apartment and took the stairs down rather than wait for the elevator. He could already tell that what little patience he had wasn't going to do him justice today. 

He walked out into the street and started down the sidewalk. It didn't take him long to realize he was being followed. Shit, she either had brass balls or no brain. She was being _obvious _about stalking him. At the very least, she had to know that was illegal. He took a detour instead of going straight to his house. He wasn't sure he wanted her to know where he lived, and he had to go there to get changed before he could go to work. 

The coffee shop was full. He never understood these places. He stood behind a woman who was waiting impatiently for her half-caffinated, non-fat, thick foam, white capped grande cappuccino with no lid and surveyed the area. The girl walked in behind him and took a seat near the door. Obvious. She _wanted _him to know she was following him. Some kind of a statement, maybe? 

The woman got her half-caffinated, non-fat, thick foam, white capped grande cappuccino with no lid and Ryan stepped up to the counter. "Small coffee," he ordered. "Black." 

He felt the stalker approach him and he tensed. She was going to make a move. "Aren't you that bartender who works in Kristi's?" 

Ryan turned and studied her for a minute. For the first time, he got a good look at her. She damn well _looked _like a hooker. She wore heavy makeup, hoop earrings, a diamond stud in her nose, and a long jacket that covered her clothing. Leather, high heeled boots ran up her legs and underneath the jacket and her hands were covered by slim, black, leather gloves. Her black and red hair hung over her ears, and her bright, almost _lime _green eyes reminded him of something out of a horror flick. Underneath the gothic look, she was _way _too pretty for her own good. 

"Yeah," he answered. "So?" 

She smiled. "You're up kinda early then, aren't you?" 

"I work two jobs," he answered. "I'm also a police officer." 

That didn't surprise her like he'd hoped it would. "That's great," she smiled. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. Did she miss the point or did she _really _think he hadn't noticed that she was _stalking him_? "You know, it's not a good idea to stalk a police officer," he informed her. 

"So you _did _see me," she smiled, shifting her weight to one leg. "I thought maybe you did. Why didn't you ever come say hi?" 

"Was I supposed to?" he asked as he grabbed his coffee off the counter. 

He turned away, and she followed him. They walked outside together and Ryan's eyes were immediately attracted to a group of teenage boys whom he knew should be in school. They laughed and cursed at each other, and one of them eyed the girl at his side. They were trouble, and Ryan knew it. "You know, this ain't the best neighborhood around," he informed her. "You have a ride or do you need me to escort you back to the...?" He caught himself before he said "trailer park". "... projects." 

"I don't live in the projects," she answered. 

He nodded slightly. The group of guys turned and walked away. He needed to get home and get his ass to work. He was running late. "Where do you live?" 

"Think I'd tell _you _that?" 

"I told you, I'm a police officer," he reminded her. "What do you think I'm gonna do, break into your house?" 

"I don't live in a house, either." 

Oh, so she was funny. "Where _do _you live?" 

"You wanna know that, you're gonna have to show me some ID." 

He glared at her. He'd tried to be nice. "I don't have time for this," he informed her. He handed her the cup in his hands. "Here. Have a coffee and go find someone to screw." 

She looked down at the styrofoam cup in her hands as he turned and walked away. She smiled. He _was _a smartass. She followed close behind him and caught up a few steps later. "I don't drink coffee," she informed, handing it back to him. "It stunts your growth." 

"Your mommy tell you that?" 

"You sure are different from other cops." 

He stopped for a moment, and turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

She shrugged. "Well, I thought all police officers treat everyone with respect." 

"You're _stalking _me," he reminded. "That's a criminal offense. I could arrest you." 

She grinned. "Then you'd _really _have to be nice to me. Or else I could sue you." 

"On what grounds?" he challenged. 

She smiled sweetly and offered him the coffee back. "Here. It's getting cold." 

He stared at the cup for a moment, then looked back at her. "You're just a _kid_," he noticed. 

Her eyes shifted, as if she wasn't sure what he meant by that. "I'll... take that as a compliment." 

"You're supposed to be in school." 

"I don't go to school." 

"I could arrest you." 

"We've already established that." They stared at each other for a long time. Finally, she sighed and put her weight on her back leg. "Do you want this three dollar cup of coffee or should I spill it out?" 

He shook his head in disbelief, then turned and walked away. She followed him. "So, what, do you _want _me to arrest you?" he asked. 

"You can't arrest me unless you're a cop." 

"I _am _a cop." 

"Well, either that or you're some sicko who's _pretending _to be a cop so you can handcuff me and throw me in the back of your car." 

"How 'bout I handcuff you and throw you in the back of somebody _else's _car?" he mumbled under his breath. 

She giggled and he spun to face her again. "Look, do you _want _something? Because I'm about _this close _to hauling your ass into the station with me." 

"Maybe I have information for the police," she grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Maybe I saw a murder." 

He studied her closely. "What murder?" he demanded. 

"How do I know you're really a police officer?" she questioned. "I need to talk to the police before I..." 

He ripped his wallet out of his pocket and showed her his badge. "There," he snapped, cutting her off. "You convinced now? I _really am _a police officer." 

She studied the badge for a moment, then her eyes raised again. "Nice to meet you," she grinned. 

"What did you see?" he demanded. 

She shook her head. "I didn't see anything." 

"You said you saw a murder." 

She grinned. "I said _maybe _I saw a murder," she corrected. 

He felt anger boil inside of him. She was seriously trying his patience. "Okay," he started. "One, you're stalking me. And that's against the law. Two, you're wasting my time. And that's pissing me off. Therefore, I am going officially place you under arrest and your parents can come pick you up at the police station." 

"I don't have parents." 

He paused. "What, are you an orphan?" 

_Geez, why are you still talking to her? _

"You mean are both my parents dead?" 

"Uh, yeah, that _is _the definition of an orphan." 

"No, they're not." 

"Then you're a runaway?" he guessed. 

"You think I'd tell that to a cop?" she smiled 

"I think you just did." 

She looked away, but didn't answer. There was something about her. He'd noticed it right away, but now it was even stronger. But he couldn't put his finger on it. Something about her was... different. Intreguing. Almost familiar. He knew her game, but he hadn't played it in so long that he'd forgotten how. Almost reminded him of being a kid again. "Maybe" was never "yes" or "no". 

"Why're you following me?" he pressed. 

She smiled. "Maybe I'm a serial killer." 

He let that roll. Maybe meant nothing. "For your sake, I hope not." 

It was almost like she was flirting with him. He considered the thought. She was _way _too young. He looked a good ten years younger than he was - he'd always kept his body in pretty good shape - but there was no way she could _possibly _mistaken him for someone under 25. And she looked about 13. 

"How old are you?" he asked. 

She shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels and toes. How did she _do _that in those heels? "Twenty-three." 

He laughed. Damn, she was smooth. That just rolled off her tongue, no thought needed. "Bull shit." 

"You think so?" she smiled in return. 

"There's no way in hell you're twenty-three." 

"Why do you ask me if you're not going to believe me?" she questioned. 

"Ever hear about a thing called honesty?" 

She smiled. "Truth is in the eye of the beholder." 

"Who told you that?" 

"A friend." 

He studied her for a minute. "Do you _have _a reason for following me?" 

She nodded. "Yes." 

_Finally_! A straight answer. "Do you have any intention of telling me what that reason _is_?" 

"I have to tell you something that you..." She paused and considered the word "want." "...need to hear." 

He nodded slowly, contemplating that. "And what's that?" 

"I can't tell you here." 

"Think you could tell me on the other side of a set of bars?" 

"A bar works for me," she answered, twisting his words around. 

"You're too damn _young _to be in a bar." 

She laughed. "Oh, come on. I bet _you _did a lot of underage drinking back in _your _day." 

She talked as if she knew him. Not that he was admitting she was right, but he really didn't need to. She was already sure of the statement. He could tell by the way she'd said it. How did she know him? Had they met before. Maybe - he shuddered - this was a _daughter _he didn't know about. She was too young to be an old girlfriend or a one night stand. He got drunk off his ass, but he'd _never _do a twelve year old no matter _how _sleazy she dressed. He knew the difference. Hell, he was a bartender. He could pretty much guess the age of anyone who walked in his door. 

"No bar," he stated firmly. "You don't belong in a bar." 

She shrugged, looking up at the sky as the tiny snowflakes fell around them. She opened her mouth to catch them on her tongue. "Oh ah ondt," she agreed, her tongue still sticking out of her open mouth. 

He studied her for a minute. "Any _other _ideas?" 

She lowered her head and closed her mouth, then eyed him suspiciously. "I don't know. Am I under arrest? Because that might seriously put a cramp in any plans I had to tell you why I came from the other side of God's green Earth to _find _you." 

He glanced at his watch. He'd find out later where she was from. Right now, he had to get to work. "Fine, princess, how 'bout dinner?" 

She laughed. "Are you _hitting _on me, Mr. Police Officer?" she grinned. 

"Why not?" he replied. "You're twenty-five, right?" 

She crossed her arms over her chest. He was pretty good at this game, even if he did take a while to catch on. "Twenty-_three_," she corrected, smiling. 

"If you got a better idea, I'm all ears," he answered her, slightly amused. 

She shrugged. "Food sounds nice," she accepted. 

"Fine," he agreed. "I'll meet you _here _at seven. And until then, _stop following me_. Got it?" 

She smiled. "Got it." 

***

"So... let me guess," he started. "Your dad is mean to you and your mom is dead..." 

It was a ridiculous assumption. He didn't know anything about her, and he realized that. But he also knew how to get people to talk. "My mother's not dead," she corrected. "She's alive and well. Just got remarried, actually." 

A light at the end of the tunnel. "So that's why you ran away?" 

"I never said I ran away," she answered. 

He ignored her. He already knew she had. He'd checked to see if anyone with her description had been reported missing, but found nothing. But the way she'd answered questions about her parents and her home was evidence enough. "You don't like the guy, is that it?" 

She shrugged. "He's sounds okay. Kinda stupid, but he's nice." 

He stared at her, confused. He only _sounded _okay? "Your mother married him and you don't know him?" 

"Did I say I didn't know him?" 

"You said he _sounds _okay." 

"Oh," she smiled. "I guess I did, didn't I?" 

"How does he only _sound _okay?" 

"Well, I've never met him," she shrugged. "Hell, he lives on the other side of the country." 

He raised an eyebrow. "_Where _on the other side of the country?" he asked. 

"New York," she shrugged. "Unless she already moved to Maryland. I know she was gonna do that, but I'm not sure if she already has. I haven't seen my mom in years." 

He considered that for a moment. New York. That was a hell of a long way from Vegas. "How'd you manage to get across the country in one piece?" he asked. He could think of a million things that could've brought her trip to a screeching halt. 

"I said my _mom _lives in New York," she corrected. "I never said _I _did." 

She was almost beginning to frustrate him. "So where are you from?" 

"Where was I _born _or where do I _live_?" 

He studied her carefully. "That's a trick question," he realized. If he asked her where she was born, it wasn't necessarily where she ran away from. But if he asked her where she lived, he knew she'd just gesture to the world around her. She'd already said she was homeless. 

"You're pretty good," she grinned. "Where'd you learn to interrogate?" 

"Where'd you learn to avoid questions?" he shot back. This was like a game, and he realized it. The girl was amusing, and she wasn't getting on his nerves yet. It was gonna be _hell _taking her to the station, though. Eventually, he was going to have to. Regardless of what it was she wanted to tell him. 

"I've always been told my dad could con his way outta anything." 

"So your dad taught you?" 

"I never met my dad. He died before I was born." 

"If your dad's dead, why don't you live with your mother?" 

She sighed. "I don't know. Guess I reminded her too much of my father." 

He studied her carefully. The more she talked, the more interested he got. The waitress brought her food, offered to bring Ryan another beer, which he refused, and disappeared again. 

"You don't even take your gloves off to eat?" Ryan questioned as the girl picked up her fork. 

"I don't ever take my gloves off," she answered, stabbing a forkful of salad. 

"Why not?" 

"You know X-Men?" 

She brought the food to her lips and chewed for a moment. Ryan watched her, amused by her response. "Yeah, I've seen the movie." 

"Remember Rogue?" 

He smiled. "You tryin' to tell me you're some kind of mutant?" 

She glanced up. "If I said yes, would you believe me?" 

"I believe what I see." 

She laughed. "You shouldn't trust your eyes so much, Ryan," she mumbled, taking another small bite. "Looks can be deceiving." 

He paused for a moment, evaluating her words. "How do you know my name?" 

She nodded toward him, and reached for her glass of Mountain Dew. "It's on your shirt." 

He glanced down at the pin on his jacket. Of course it was. He'd just gotten off work, after all. "Fair enough," he answered. "So what's _your _name?" 

She smiled. "If you don't know that by now, you don't deserve to know." 

He eyed the bracelet around her wrist. "Sharon?" he guessed, reading the beads. 

She didn't answer, only looked down at her food and shrugged as if she were disinterested. Ryan shook his head slightly as he looked away. He leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the booth, using his other arm to grab the glass of beer on the table. "So Sharon, if you don't live with your mother and your father's dead, who do you live with?" he asked. 

"No one, right now." 

"How long have you been on your own?" he questioned. Her hygene was way to upkept for her to have been on the streets for very long. 

"Well the trip took four nights," she counted. "And I've been here for two. Figure I stay another night, make my move, then go back." 

Shit, she did it again. He really wanted to know who was taking care of her, but she kept distracting him. She was good at it, too. He _knew _she was trying to distract him, and it was still working. "What move?" 

"I gotta talk to someone." 

"Who's that?" 

She chewed for a moment, avoiding his gaze. "My uncle. He's here in Las Vegas, somewhere. I was kinda hoping you could help me find him." 

He studied her. "What's his name?" 

She glanced up. "I don't know." 

"You're looking for someone you don't know?" 

"I know what he looks like, I just don't know his name. My dad drew a sketch of him before he died." She considered that for a minute. "It was pretty good, too, considering he was half dead when he did it. He was a good artist." 

He knew he was getting further and further away from the point, but at the moment, he didn't care. "So... you want me to help you track down your lost uncle and _that's _why you've been stalking me?" 

She nodded. "Pretty much, yeah." 

He sighed. This was giving him a headache. "Fine. I'll look at the picture, you can finish eating, and then I'm gonna take you to the station. I'm sure your guardian, whoever that may be, is worried sick about you." 

She stared down at her plate. She didn't doubt that. "Yeah, prob'ly," she informed her salad. 

Ryan watched her. She wasn't making any effort here. "You got the picture on you?" he prompted. 

She set her fork down and looked up. "No." 

He laughed. "Well, how do you expect to find him without the picture?" 

"It's in my head real good. It was kinda like my dad's legacy or something." She sighed. "It's all screwy and hard to explain." 

"Great," he mumbled under his breath, downing the last of his beer. They were quiet for a few minutes. She was taking her time eating. The silence was killing him. "So how did your father die?" he finally questioned. 

She shrugged. "My mom always told me it was cancer." 

He scrutinized that sentence carefully. "And you don't think it was?" 

"I didn't say that." 

"Let me put it this way," he grinned. "What do _you _think killed him?" 

"I don't know," she answered. "I wasn't there." 

He sighed, exasperated. Enough of that. "So who has custody of you?" he asked. "Another relative?" 

"Nobody has custody of me," she mumbled. "Technically, I don't exist." 

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

She ignored him and decided to go for the last question. "But I live with my _sensei _and, until just recently, his brother." 

The word made Ryan's ears perk. "_Sensei_?" 

"Yes," she answered. 

"So you study martial arts?" 

She nodded. "My entire life. You?" 

He hesitated. "Not really," he answered. "Kind of a hobby, but I haven't done any serious training in... god, forever." 

There was a long silence as she picked at the salad. She wasn't really hungry anymore. "What form do you study?" he asked. 

"Hmm?" she questioned, as if she hadn't heard him. She had, of course. She was stalling. Something inside of her warned that he wasn't ready to hear this yet. But she was out of time. They could play this game for the next three days and not get bored. But there were only so many hours before it was over, and all of this would be for nothing. 

"What form?" he repeated. 

She raised her eyes slowly to his. "_Ninjutsu_," she replied simply. 

His eyebrows raised. "Really?" he laughed, disbelief tainting his voice. 

"Yes." 

He crossed his arms over his chest, as if he were getting ready to prove her wrong. "Where'd you find someone to teach it to you?" 

"My _sensei _studied it his whole life. He and his brothers." 

"Brothers," he repeated, half-laughing. "So, what, they were all one big happy _ninja _family?" 

She didn't smile. The conversation, for her, had turned serious. His smile fell as he realized this. "And where, exactly, does this _sensei _of yours live?" he demanded. 

"New York," she answered without hesitation. 

Ryan felt tension begin to build in the pit of his stomach. "New York," he repeated. "There a lot of _ninjas _in New York?" 

"Only two," she answered. The slight tension now reminded him of an earth-shattering volcanic eruption. "There used to be more." She sighed as she set the glass down and traced the rim with her gloved finger. "But my father died and one of them..." Her eyes raised again and she looked straight at him. "Well, he ran off to Vegas." 

Ryan felt emotion explode inside of him, but he held it back. The stoic look on his face revealed nothing. She knew about him. How did she know? "Why are you here?" he demanded, his voice cold. 

"I told you," she answered. "I'm looking for my uncle. I need his help." 

That left her father as one of two people. He suddenly realized the reason for the gloves. "No." 

"No, what?" 

"Whatever it is you want, no." He stood up and tossed a few dollars on the table as a tip. "Look, it's been fun, but I gotta get home." 

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away. "They're gonna kill Donny," she informed. 

Her words were loud enough to make a few heads in the restaurant turn. But seeing as she was saying it to a uniformed police officer in the first place, they all went back to their conversations fairly quickly. Ryan remained frozen, unable to move no matter how he willed himself to resume walking. His eyes slid closed and he took in a deep breath, then turned back to her. She was staring at him expectantly with those piercing green eyes. "What do you want _me _to do about it?" he demanded. 

"Anything and everything you can," she answered. 

"Why should I?" he challenged. 

She glared at him. "Because he's your _brother_, Raphael." 


	2. Fame

****

PART ONE

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

CHAPTER ONE

FAME

Danger: Okay so for those of you who did NOT see that frustrated review yet, I must explain. LOL I do not know a DAMN thing about html and it was sss979's great idea for me to post this. *growl* And SINCE that chapter needed special formatting, I couldn't just save it as an html file, I actually had to put the formatting IN there. Twice I tried, twice I failed, and now S has fixed it so HOPEFULLY it should be readable now!! *growls low at computer*

Sss979: *snickers quietly so as not to get beaned with the nearest readily available object*

He strolled through the front door at half-past midnight, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Where have you been?" Leonardo demanded. "_Sensei _was worried about you."

"Takin' a bath, Leo. Want some?"

Raphael swung at his brother with a blood-drenched hand and Leo jumped back. "Arg! Will you go wash that off before you stain the rug?"

Raph smiled on his way to the bathroom. "Yeah, Leo, I'm fine," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, really, I am. Of course this isn't _my _blood, I've just been out enjoying the night air."

Leo glared at him as he turned away, offering no explanation. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched his rebellious brother walk into the bathroom, and heard the water spray into the sink. Finally, he sighed and followed him, leaning against the doorframe as Raphael washed the blood from his hands and arms. His weapons dripped red as well. "Looks like whatever they did to you, you hit them back twice as hard," Leo mumbled, disgusted.

"Not quite," Raph answered. "Which isn't to say I didn't try."

"Obviously."

Raphael shut the faucet off and flicked water at Leo. He recoiled reflexively. When he looked back, Raph was studying a cut on his forearm. It was still pouring blood. For a moment, he was concerned. "You need me to stitch that?"

"Nah, it's not deep," Raphael mumbled, clapping his hand over the wound. He looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Leo."

"What happened to you?"

"Me?" Raphael laughed, pushing past Leo and rummaging through the cabinet, looking for the first aid kit. "Casey got himself _shot_. He's in the hospital right now." He sat down on the sink and rummaged through the box beside him until he found an ACE bandage.

"You don't sound too worried," Leo observed.

Raph shrugged. "Hey, he did it to himself. And it's not like he's dying. Just not too comfortable at the moment."

Leo watched him struggle with the wrap for a few moments before taking it from him. Raph held out his arm and let his brother wrap it. "What happened?"

"Casey and I've been watching this drug ring for the past three weeks. Wanted to take it down in one shot, you know?" He cringed as Leo turned his arm none-too-gently and fastened the bandage. "Tonight was the night, 'cept there ended up being about three times as many guys as we were expecting."

"And you still attacked?" Leo sighed. "You could've asked for some help you know. There would've been another opportunity."

"Yeah, tell that to Casey," he mumbled. Their eyes met. "For once, I didn't start this one."

Leo wasn't entirely sure he believed that, but he wasn't going to argue with him. "Raphael." They both spun and saw Master Splinter standing a few feet behind them. "What has happened?"

Raphael sighed. "Drug ring. We got in over our heads."

"Who else are you referring to?" Splinter questioned.

"Casey. He got shot, but he should be okay. He's in the hospital."

Splinter studied him for a moment. He said nothing as he turned and walked away. Leo shot one more tired look at his brother, and headed toward his room. Raphael watched them go, then breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that wasn't _too _bad. Of course, showing up wounded always seemed to lessen the lecturing. 

He turned and looked in the mirror. He looked like hell. Didn't feel too good, either. But he wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon. He could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Besides, the night was young. It was only 12:30.

He rinsed off his weapons and considered flipping on the TV to see if the bust had been big enough to make breaking news. But he'd seen enough blood for one night, and he wasn't really interested. He'd find out tomorrow how many millions of dollars in cocaine they pulled in. Probably a more interesting statistic would be how many rounds of bullets he'd managed to dodge. What a workout. They'd barely gotten out in one piece, and at least a dozen of the dealers got away. Another three dozen were in a lot of pain by the time the cops showed up, and five of them were dead. There was no getting around that, when there were so many of them.

Raphael shoved his weapons onto his belt. Leo and Splinter had already gone to bed. That meant that if he went out again, they wouldn't be waiting for him when he came back. That had its advantages, although technically it was considered sneaking out. Oh well. It wasn't like he'd never done it before. He walked to the phone and quickly dialed the first number that came to mind.

"Hey Brandon, you home?" he asked the answering machine. "Pick up the damn phone, you dick; I know you're awake."

There was a loud scratching sound as the phone was answered. "Yeah, I'm here."

"You screening your calls again?"

"Rachel's been calling every fifteen minutes. Driving me nuts."

Raphael smiled. Brandon and Rachel had just broken up, and it wasn't pretty. "Hey, you busy?" Raph questioned.

"Bored as hell. Hey, you haven't seen my car yet!" he suddenly remembered, excited.

"Oh, so you finally got it huh?"

"It is sweet as _hell_. You wanna take it out for a spin?"

"Sure."

"Come on over then."

"'K. Later."

Raphael hung up the phone. He'd met Brandon two months ago, right after he'd broken up with Jessica, at a bar. From the first time they'd talked, it was all about this black Corvette that Brandon would sell his soul for. A week ago, he'd announced that he'd begged and pleaded enough to convince his parents to buy it for him. Raph just shook his head in disbelief. How much money did his parents have to shell out that kind of money because their son had a crush on a car? Not that he was _complaining_.

He paused in the living room to make sure no one was watching him, then walked to his bedroom. He opened the door and shut it again in case anyone was still awake and listening, then tiptoed to the door. Without a sound, he slipped out of the lair and into the long, damp tunnel.

***

"I'm gonna be home a little late tonight, honey."

Those words were getting to be a regular occurance for Matthew Richardson. He'd never expected this, when he'd worked himself to the bone in bio-medical school. He had to get that degree, had to get that career. He had to make that one discovery that would put his name in the books. It was the fame even more than the money that had driven him. It was never supposed to be like this. 

His team had been working for the past three years to perfect this vaccine. And they were no closer to pinpointing it. It wasn't really needed yet. But someday it would be used to combat a lab-grown disease in the event of biological warfare. Few people knew of the experiments. Fewer still knew of their success. But it would do them no good if they couldn't perfect this damn vaccine.

He sighed as he rested his head in his hands. He was through logging the day's progress, though there was little to report. The string that they thought for sure would work had left them with another dead dog and nothing to show for it. Maybe this wasn't where he should be. Maybe he should've pursued basketball, like his college coach had said. But no, he wanted to prove that he had the brains to make a discovery that would change the way the human population thought. Foolish. Twenty years later, he was right where he'd started.

Out of nowhere, he suddenly felt a prick against the back of his neck. He jerked involuntarily, and leaned forward. The sharp object, whatever it was, followed him. "Dr. Matthew Richardson," a cold, emotionless voice said from behind him.

Dr. Richardson felt a chill run down his spine. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaky. "How did you get in here?" He knew this building was heavily guarded.

The voice didn't answer him. He could feel the tip or a dagger or a sword maybe, pressed against his skin, and he dared not move. "What do you want?" he demanded, thinking maybe that question would be more readily answered.

A low, evil laugh came as a reply. "To make you famous."

***

"Hey lookit this," Brandon pointed. Raph looked. Alongside their car was a red Mustang convertible. Even more interesting than the car were the girls in it. The driver had long dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She was wearing a leather jacket, and a low cut top. Her passenger was a blonde with crimped hair and long legs that were up in the open window.

"Cute," Raph grinned.

"Very."

Brandon honked the horn. Raphael didn't have a whole lot of time to react, so he did the first thing he thought of. He hid, sliding down into the seat. Damn it! Sometimes Brandon just did not _think_!

"Hey baby!" Brandon called. "Got a name?"

Raphael could hear them giggle, and Brandon revved the engine. He stole a quick glance and saw the blonde sit up, dropping her legs in front of her. She was wearing a strapless shirt, cut straight across just above her breasts. Raphael's eyes were glued instantly. 

"Lisa," the driver called back. Raphael glanced up at the light. It was still green for the other way.

Brandon laughed quietly. "Your place or mine?" he asked.

Lisa giggled again. "Gotta catch me first, stud!"

She turned back and watched the light. Brandon laughed as she revved the engine. "Well, she's game," he mumbled. "Are you?"

Raphael sighed. "Brandon, when're you gonna get it through that thick skulla yers that I ain't even _human_. I can't _do _shit like this."

"What, you sayin' you wouldn't do that cute little blonde she's got over there?" Brandon challenged.

Raphael glared at him. "You got a..."

The light changed and tires squealed. Raphael gripped the armrest as they lurched forward. He could hear the transmission shift as Brandon floored the gas. "Holy shit!" he cried. "You tryin' to get us killed?"

Brandon's mind was on other things. He watched the road, dodging cars as the needle on the speedometer climbed steadily. "We pass a cop and you're done for," Raphael warned.

"Relax, man," Brandon laughed. "Sit back and enjoy the ride."

Raphael grinned evilly. "Hey, we get pulled over and _you're _the one who's gonna be in deep shit, not me."

"You think so?" Brandon challenged.

Raphael smiled knowingly, but didn't bother to argue. He knew damn well that he could be out of this car and halfway to the lair in ten seconds flat. They'd never find him.

Brandon swerved right behind Lisa's car and flashed his bright lights. A sign flew by, and Raphael caught a glimpse of the blur. The speed limit was forty. They were bordering seventy miles per hour. The light up ahead was yellow. He closed his eyes. Shit, he was going to _die _if anyone found out about this. If not sooner.

Lisa slammed the brakes and squealed to a stop. Raphael was glad he was wearing a seatbelt or he would've kissed the dashboard. "Not bad," Lisa called.

"Not bad youself."

Raphael looked the other way as they talked some more, and braced as he saw the light turn yellow for the other direction. As they pulled away, they swerved in front of Lisa's car and Brandon hit the brakes. He turned into his subdivision and she followed. Once they were off the busy road, he slowed and came to a complete stop in the middle of the road. She flashed her bright lights, and he burned rubber as he pulled away. She followed close behind.

A moment later, he pulled into his driveway. She stopped in front of the house, but didn't get out of the car. He shut off the ignition and walked over to her, grinning smugly. "So now that you caught me, what're you gonna _do _with me?" she cooed.

Brandon grinned. "Oh, I could think of a few things."

Raphael sat alone in the car, weighing his options. He didn't like this. Not that he had any problem with a fling, but these girls weren't drunk and that seriously cut the chances that anything was going to happen. They were way out in the suburbs, and Raphael would have a hell of a time getting back on his own. Being green also affected his ability to hitchhike. Damn it, why was Brandon always forgetting this?

"Hey."

The blonde was leaning on the windowsill of the driver's side. Through the windshield, Raphael could see Brandon and Lisa kissing. That man wasn't going anywhere until he got off. And that meant Raph was going to have to find another way home. This was _such _a bad idea.

"You got a name?"

Raph stole a glance at the blonde. He could see straight down her top, and she wasn't wearing a bra. In spite of himself, he could feel his body reacting. "Raphael," he answered. "You?"

She gave a quiet, sexy laugh. "You can call me anything you want."

Raph sighed and looked away again. The blonde opened the door and slipped into the driver's seat. "So are you the quiet, shy type?" she guessed.

Raphael smiled to himself. Quiet and shy. That was the first time in his life he'd ever heard that question. "Not exactly," he replied. The conversation was loosening him up, and he fought to keep his defenses up. This wasn't going to end well, and he knew it.

"You wanna come in?" she asked him seductively. "Or would you prefer to stay in the car?"

He considered that for a moment. The car was dark. Maybe he could... Shit, who was he fooling? How the hell to you hide a _shell_? He couldn't even _kiss _her without her noticing the difference. Her fingers ran over his arm, through the jacket. He sighed. "Look, baby, you don't wanna do this."

"Why not?" she breathed, leaning on his arm. She nuzzled against him and kissed the side of his face. She still hadn't noticed.

"Because I'm not exactly..."

She noticed. He wasn't sure what had told her, but she jerked away from him and stared with wide eyes. He looked away. "My _god_, what _are _you?" she cried. "Some kind of freak?"

He clenched his jaw and yanked the doorhandle. He stood and slammed the door as he walked away from the car. "Hey Raph, where you goin'?" Brandon called.

"Where the fuck do you think I'm goin'?" he yelled back. "No reason for me to be here."

Brandon watched him go as Lisa nipped at his ear. Then he turned and smiled at her.

***

"Where you been?"

Raphael glared at his brother. "What, were you waiting up for me?" he demanded.

Michaelangelo shook his head. "No. Rei had a nightmare and it woke me up. Can't get back to sleep. You alright?"

Raph flopped down in the chair next to the couch. "Fine," he growled.

"You look pissed."

Raphael's eyes slid closed. "I just jogged fifteen miles in a trenchcoat, Mikey. Am I supposed to be happy?"

Mike grinned. "You shoulda called. I would've come picked you up."

"Not worth the risk of Leo possibly answering the damn phone."

Mikey turned his attention back to the movie for a moment. He'd seen it before, and it wasn't particularly good the first time. It was even worse the second, but he was bored and it was four in the morning and he needed something to do. For a long time, Raph was quiet. "Hey, Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"

Michaelangelo thought about that for a minute. "What do you mean?"

"I mean anything," Raph pressed.

"Like, something I've _done_?" Mike asked. "Or something I _am_?"

"Something you are."

He considered that thought for a long time. "I don't know," he finally answered. "I don't really think I'd change anything. Now if you'd asked me that five years ago..."

Raphael looked away. Why was he not surprised? His brother watched him. "This about a girl?"

Raph shook his head. "It's about _life_," he sighed. "A society that we watch from the outside looking in, and we'll never be a part of."

Mike glanced back at the TV, although he wasn't really interested it in anymore. Raphael was in one of his famous moods and he didn't figure there was anything he could do about it. He sighed. "Raph, it's not like you can't ever leave the lair," he offered. "I mean, pardon me for saying so, but you do pretty damn _well_ for a mutant turtle among a crowd of humans."

"Yeah," Raph mumbled. "But costumes aren't always part of the plan."

Mike fell silent. He knew better than to get into this conversation. The last time he'd tried, he almost got his ass kicked. Not worth it. The fact of the matter was, Raphael would never be happy with a long term girlfriend that knew about him and accepted him. He wanted the one night stands. Unfortunately, he _was _a mutant turtle. And that made it a little hard.

Raphael sighed as he stood up. "I'm goin' to bed," he mumbled.

"Night, Raph."

Mike looked up just as his brother was about to walk out of the room. "Hey Raph?"

"Yeah?"

They stared at each other for a moment. "What would _you _change?"

Raphael hesitated. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"What if it meant you had to leave your family behind?"

There was a long pause as Raphael thought about that. He wasn't sure how to answer, so he didn't. He turned away, shut the door, and went to bed.

***

The phone rang at two in the morning. Adam Travinski reached blindly, knocking things off the bedside table as he fumbled for the receiver. "H'lo," he mumbled, his mind still fuzzy.

"Adam, it's Dr. Richardson."

Why the hell was his boss calling him at two in the morning? "Wha'da wan'?" he slurred.

"I need to you get down to the lab. I have something you've gotta see."

He sounded more enthusiastic than Adam ever remembered him being in the years that they had worked together. He forced himself to wake up, and opened his eyes. "What'd you find, doc?" he muttered. "You get the vaccine?"

"No, even better. I think we may soon have the opportunity to study an entirely new species."

That got his attention. "What kind of species?" he asked, sitting up. "Plant? Animal?"

"Well, it's an animal but... I'm not quite sure what to categorize it as after that."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like it's part... oh, never mind. Get down here now. Hurry up."

The phone went dead and Adam stared at it for a moment before replacing it. Then he slipped out of bed and got dressed.

He arrived at the lab in record time. His other collegues were already there. The four of them had spent every waking hour recently working on the vaccine that would save the world. They'd put in more overtime in the past month than they normally did in a year. To Adam and Raymond, the youngest of the group, it was damn good money without a lot of sacrifice. 

Raymond Alex was only 27, and the decision to include him in their research had been heavily debated. He didn't have the level of experience that they did. But he was dedicated, and he had no family. He worked overtime without complaints, much like Adam who was divorced. Patricia Callihan complained a little more than either of them, especially when her fiancee decidede to throw a hissy fit over her crazy hours. She was the least willing to put in the overtime. But her intelligence was absolutely necessary to the project. After all, it was her formula that had convinced the government to _fund _this project. Dr. Matthew Richardson was in charge, and the father of three. He hated being away from his family, but had given his life to his work. He put in the most hours out of the four of them, by far.

"What is it?" Travinski asked.

"Take a look at this," Richardson urged.

Travinski took the Polaroid photo from his hands, and stared at it for a moment. What he saw confused him. "What _is _it?" he questioned.

"I'm not entirely sure," Richardson answered.

"It's some kind of human/turtle... crossbreed maybe," Callihan suggested, brushing her fingertips over a second photo. "My god..."

There were two of them in the picture, on a sofa. One was hiding his face from the camera and the other was glaring at it. "Are you sure it's _real_?" Alex questioned. "I mean... it could be a costume. Or computer generated."

"It is not a costume."

The unfamiliar voice nearly gave them all a heart attack. They spun and looked to the window. A dark figure sat on the windowsill. "Who're you?" Travinski questioned.

"You do not need to know my name," the shadow answered.

"I got the photos from him," Richardson explained.

"And where did _you _get them?" Callihan demanded of the guest.

He glared at her. "That is not your concern. If you cannot take me at my word, I will take my information and my help elsewhere."

"What kind of help?" Travinski asked. "Are these things still alive?"

The shadow nodded. "And I can help you to capture them. Alive."

"You can bring one of them to us?" Alex asked eagerly.

"No," Richardson protested. They all looked to him. "We should study them in their habitat first," he explained. "To see how they interact. If this is truly a new species, there is much to be learned before we take any action."

The shadowconsidered their words for a moment. "If you can provide me with equipment, I am sure I could place it for you."

They looked at each other. "Equipment like cameras?" Travinski questioned.

"Yes. And microphones. I am quite sure they would not suspect anything. Their habitat is well hidden and they have no reason to think they would be discovered."

Richardson nodded. "Then it is settled. I will put in a request immediately, and have this cleared with the board in the morning."


	3. Observation

****

CHAPTER TWO

OBSERVATION

"I wonder how they reproduce."

The four doctors stared at the monitors. They hadn't seen their _ninja _friend all morning, but they sure as hell saw the work he did. He had a camera in every room, and several microphones placed around the rooms as well. 

"They can't reproduce," Alex mumbled. "All four of them are males."

"How do you know?"

Good question. "Their voices?" Alex suggested, but he knew immediately that he could not make an assumption like that.

"They have to," Richardson mumbled. "It's basic instinct of every species to reproduce."

"Gentlemen, I don't think we're looking at a genuinely new species," Callihan sighed. "I believe we're looking at some kind of cross-mutated species."

"They still have to reproduce."

"Not if there's no females like them."

"What about her?"

Their attention fell to the girl on the sofa. She was laughing quietly as she talked to the one with the purple bandana. "She looks to be completely human."

"I wonder if we could identify her," Richardson thought out loud.

"What good would that do?"

Richardson shrugged. "Just a thought."

"Perhaps they can reproduce with human females."

Callihan smiled, considering the thought as the turtle stood up and walked out of the room. "I doubt that. Even if they somehow adopted male reproductive organs, the chances that their DNA would mesh with human DNA are slim to none."

"Unless it's some sort of strange evolution," Alex pondered. The turtle walked into his bedroom and grabbed a book, flopping down on the bed. Alex wondered briefly if he could actually read it.

"No," Travinski mumbled. The human girl stood up. "Evolution wouldn't cause a mammal to turn into a reptile, or vice versa. There was some outside agent involved."

"Hey, hey, look at this," Alex laughed, pointing at the screen as another turtle walked into the living room.

Michaelangelo slipped his arms around his girlfriend's waist and she jumped in surprise. "Mike!"

He smiled as he kissed her neck and bit her earlobe gently. "You've ungently stole from my bed," he whispered. "And yesternight at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing and sighing, with your arms across." He kissed along the rim of her ear and she leaned back against him. "And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me with ungentle looks."

"Macbeth?" she guessed.

"Julius Caesar," he corrected, holding her tighter. "Portia to Brutus. What's wrong, babe?"

She turned to face him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling.

"For what?"

"For urgently stealing from your bed," she grinned.

He kissed her deeply, well aware when Leonardo walked into the room, but caring very little. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder as she pulled away. "What's bothering you?" he asked again.

She sighed. "I don't know," she whispered. "I've just... been having those nightmares lately."

He buried his fingers in her hair, glancing up just long enough to see Leo disappear into the kitchen. "What are they about, anyway?"

She sighed. "I don't wanna talk about it."

He kissed her forehead and nuzzled against her. "I'm sorry," he sympathized.

"S'okay," she answered. "It isn't your fault."

"Wanna go to bed?" he whispered in her ear. "We can fool around..."

She laughed quietly as his hands roamed over intimate places. "Mikey..." she warned.

He hugged her close to him and kissed her neck. "You're tense," he observed. "Relax."

She tried, but her body refused. She was sore, and her head hurt. Donny said it was stress, and she could believe that. But it didn't make it hurt any less. She didn't want to tell Mike about it because he'd either worry or try everything he could think of to fix it. She didn't want either right now. What she really wanted was a good night's sleep.

"Mikey?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm tired."

He pulled away. She silently thanked god that he wasn't wearing that hurt, puppy-dog face that he adopted when he was "in the mood" and she wasn't. For once, his ungodly sex drive wasn't working overtime. "Okay," he whispered. "Want me to put you to bed?"

"If you can play nice," she answered.

He smiled and took her hands, leading her into their room.

"They're not gonna do anything."

"They _can't_."

"You don't know that."

The turtle laid the girl back on the bed and undressed her slowly. "Sure as hell _looks _like they can," Alex mumbled.

"Yeah, they sleep in the same bed," Callihan mumbled. "There's gotta be a reason."

"What do you suppose happened to that girl in her life that she would think it's okay to have sex with a turtle?" Alex wondered out loud.

"They're not _having _sex," Travinski answered. "They're just... sleeping together."

"Naked," Alex added, grinning.

"Is he ever _not _naked?" Travinski demanded.

"No, but _she _is," Richardson mumbled.

Travinski sighed deeply and fell silent. He watched with little interest as the turtle brushed his fingers over the side of the girl's face and her eyes opened. He asked her something, but it was too quiet to hear. "Turn that mic up," Richardson ordered. 

Alex walked to the audio board. "Which one is it?"

"Try thirteen."

"No, it's fifteen," Callihan corrected. "I was listening to them earlier."

"Really, what'd they say?"

"Quiet!" Richardson ordered.

The room was filled with the quiet hiss of static. "Are you sure you don't wanna talk?"

"Yes, Mikey, I'm sure."

The crowd watched as he nuzzled the side of her face gently and whispered something too quiet to hear. She laughed. "No, it's not that."

He smiled as he pulled away. "You sure?"

"Uh huh."

He buried his three fingers in her hair and lay his head down next to hers. "I love you, Rei."

She smiled as his hand ran down. "Oh, look!" Alex joked excitedly. "Look! He's making a move!"

Callihan shoved him. "Grow up."

His hand slipped underneath the blanket. "He's not gonna do it," Travinski mumbled under his breath.

"You don't know that."

"Where's his _dick_, Pat?" he smirked.

She glared at him. "Where's _yours_?"

Rei sighed deeply as she felt Mike's hand trail down her side. "You want me to rub you down?" he suggested.

She laughed. "Mikey, I'm _fine_," she assured him.

"I believe you," he smiled. "Doesn't mean I can't be nice to you."

"Why, do you want something?" she pressed.

His fingers slipped underneath her nightshirt and raised it above her hip. "Oh, the ways I could answer such an open-ended question," he grinned.

"Answer, then," she urged. "What is it you want?"

His fingers traced the edge of her panties, and slipped underneath them, parting her legs slightly. He kissed her earlobe. "To love you," he whispered. "To be with you forever. I want _you_."

She smiled as his fingers moved her panties to the side, baring her sex. "You _have _me," she reminded him. 

She turned to look at him as his fingertip brushed over her moist lips. He smiled and kissed her lightly. "Close your eyes," he whispered. "Go to sleep."

She laughed to herself. "This he says as he's trying to excite me..."

"No, I'm not," he smiled. "Don't think about it, just relax. Let it feel good. It'll put you to sleep, I promise."

She breathed deeply as his finger slipped in and out of her, almost casually. She could feel his breath against the side of her face, slow and steady. He hadn't ever done this before to put her to sleep. But as she evaluated the feeling, she realized that he was right. It was relaxing, even more than it was sexual if she didn't think about it as if there would be more to follow. Strange how he knew that about her... _She _hadn't even thought of this.

Michaelangelo felt the tension slowly ease from his lover's body. After a long pause, she turned to him and cuddled up closer, tucking her head under his chin. He slipped his hand underneath her nightshirt and held her protectively, brushing his thumb back and forth against the small of her back. He measured her breathing, and was well aware as it deepened. She was asleep. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes.

"That's it?" Alex questioned. "What the hell was _that_?"

"They can't reproduce through digital sex," Richardson mumbled. "They're just not going to do it tonight."

"Do you want to record this?" Travinski suggested, glancing at his watch. "I mean, it's almost ten o'clock and I'm about ready to get home." 

Dr. Richardson considered that for a moment. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. Let's meet back here in the morning at eight."

"We could set the VTR to record at six," Callihan suggested. "That way we'll see what they do when they wake up, if it's before we get here."

Richardson nodded. "That's a good idea; let's do that. And I'll see you all in the morning."

***

Michaelangelo knew he was awake long before he opened his eyes. He breathed deep a few times and moved closer to Rei. She was still asleep, he could tell. What time was it? He kissed her temple and nuzzled her sweet-smelling hair. She moaned slightly, but didn't stir. 

His body awoke slowly and he forced his eyes open. The glowing red digits on the clock told him it was only 5:30. Geez, why was he up so early? Ordinarily, he made Leo _drag _him out of bed around seven. But he was fully alert in a few minutes, and he decided to get up.

The air was cold, and he made sure that Rei was completely covered before he slipped out of the room. The lair was silent, and the only light came from the _dojo_. He yawned and stretched, then walked to the room. Donatello was on the mat, half-heartedly running through a simple _kata_. Mike was only slightly surprised. He'd expected to see Leo, this early in the morning.

Donny saw him immediately and turned to him. "_Ohayo_," he greeted.

"_Ohayo_," Mike answered, nodding to his brother. "Why are you up so early?"

"I don't know. I've had a hard time sleeping lately."

Mike walked to the weapons rack and retrieved a set of practice, foam padded _nunchakus_. His weapons, his belt, and all his pads were still on his bedroom floor. He didn't need them. It wasn't like they hid anything anyway. "You and Rei both," he mumbled.

"Nightmares again?"

"Constantly. And she won't talk about them, either. I don't want to think about what they might be about."

"It's just stress, Mike," Don assured him. "Don't worry about it."

Michaelangelo sighed as he approached his brother. "I wish I could _not _worry about it."

They bowed to each other and braced. Donatello struck first, and Mike caught his weapon on the chain of his own. He waited for him to pull back before spinning into a roundhouse kick that Don blocked with his _bo_. "I just wish she'd talk about them, you know?" Mike mumbled, regaining his footing just in time to avoid a jab at his chest. "But she won't."

"Probably 'cause they have something to do with you," Donatello suggested, blocking the blow aimed at his neck.

"She tell you that?"

"_Iie_," he mumbled. "But I can guess."

They continued in silence for a few moments before Donny made a connection right at his brother's wrist. Mike dropped the weapon to avoid getting hurt, just like he'd been taught, and jumped into a high kick. Don caught his chest with his _bo _and Mike hit the ground. 

"Well done."

They turned, startled, and Donatello bowed as he saw Master Splinter in the doorway. "_Ohayo, Sensei_," he greeted.

Michaelangelo pulled himself to his feet. "_Ohayo_."

"_Ohayo_, *students*," he answered. "Why are you awake so early?"

They glanced at each other, then shrugged. "I don't know," Mike grinned. "But might as well put it to good use, right _Sensei_?"

Splinter smiled and nodded. "Continue, then," he urged. "I did not mean to interrupt."

***

"What the hell...?"

"Yeah, I know. They've been at it since I got in, almost an hour ago."

Matthew Richardson watched the screen as two of the figures attacked the third. "Is it... planned?" he questioned.

"Looks to me like it's martial arts," Travinski mumbled. "But how they learned it is beyond me."

Richardson stared at them in awe as Alex stepped through the door. "Morning, all."

"Damn, they're fast," Richardson whispered.

"Yes. They are," Travinski mumbled. "And you know what's even better? Our mic went out in that room. I can't hear _shit_."

He counted again. "Where's the fourth one?" he questioned. "The one with the girl?"

Travinski yawneed. "Girl's still in bed. The turtle seems to be _cooking_, if you can believe it. He got up before our deck started rolling this morning so I don't know how long he's been awake."

Michaelangelo left the eggs in the pan and turned the heat off. He covered them and set them on a back burner. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get Rei out of bed. She'd been really tired last night, and she hadn't even stirred in the three times he'd been in and out of the room this morning.

He walked to the room and closed the door behind him. He lay down on his side behind her. "_Ohayo Rei-chan_," he murmured, kissing the side of her face.

She moaned slightly as she woke up, and he rubbed her shoulder gently. "_Ima non-ji desu ka_?"

"What language is that?" Alex demanded, studying the screen.

"I don't know," Richardson answered. "Japanese maybe?"

"Or Chinese," Travinski suggested.

"_Ju-ji desu_," the turtle whispered back.

"No, I think it's Japanese."

"They speak _Japanese_?" Alex cried.

The woman groaned and turned to the figure beside her, burying her face in his shoulder. He kissed her hair. "_O-genki desu ka_?" he whispered.

"_Watashi wa nemui desu_," she laughed quietly.

Richardson sighed and tossed his pen on the counter. "Well," he sighed. "Know anybody who speaks Japanese? 'Cause this isn't gonna do us a damn bit of good if we can't understand them."

"We could tape it," Travinski suggested. "Have somebody else translate it."

"And what do we do if they say something that reveals what he is?" Richardson challenged. "This entire investigation is behind closed doors, and we don't want anyone knowing about it who doesn't have to."

"What about one of them?" Callihan suggested. They turned as she walked into the room, a styrofoam cup filled with coffee in her hands.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she shrugged. "We have to capture one of them sooner or later if we want to do a complete analysis."

"Yes," Richardson agreed. "But how?" He hadn't even begun to think of how to address that issue yet.

"Yeah, I don't suppose those weapons they carry are just supposed to serve as jewelry. Especially not after seeing _that_." Travinski gestured toward the screen where the other three were still locked in battle.

Alex smiled. "I bet I could do it."

Callihan watched the monitors. The turtle glanced over his shoulder at the closed door, then pulled the blanket away from Rei, baring her naked body to the icy cold air. She moaned. "Mike, please don't do that. It's _cold _in here."

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, pinning her hands to the bed. "It's time to get up."

"I don't _want _to get up," she answered quietly.

"Well, you're gonna do it anyways because I made you breakfast."

She stared up at him. "You didn't have to do that."

He smiled. "I know. Get out of bed."

He kissed her as he backed away, pulling her up to a sitting position. Then he turned and grabbed her robe off of the chair. "Come on."

Travinski sighed. "Well, whatever they're talking about, it doesn't involve staying in bed."

"Of course not," Alex chuckled. "He made her breakfast, remember?"

***

"Where are you going?"

Raphael glared at his brother. "Well gee, Leo, let me write down my schedule for you," he shot back.

Leonardo crossed his arms over his plastron. "Yeah, Raph, why _don't _you? That way if you turn up _dead_, we'll know where to _look _for you."

Raphael grabbed his trenchcoat off the rack. "Fuck you, Leo."

"You know, I don't understand why you..."

"Fine," Raph interrupted. "You don't understand me. That's _fine_." He spun to face his brother as he shoved his arms into the jacket. "In fact, it's how I _want _it. So just get the hell off my back and we'll get along just fine.

"One of these days, Raph, you're going to end up getting hurt."

Raphael spun and glared at him. "Look, just because you'd rather stay home and play with Handessa doesn't mean I can't go get the real thing."

Leonardo felt anger stir inside of him. "Raph..." he warned.

"Save your energy, Leo," he grinned evilly. "I think there's a good porno movie on tonight."

Michaelangelo snickered quietly, but remained quiet. He wasn't about to step between his brothers when they bickered. That was suicide. He watched as Raphael turned and walked out the front door, and Leo stormed into his room.

***

He studied the woman carefully. She was pretty, but she wasn't trying to show it off. Her long, permed, blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore loose jeans with holes in the knees and a faded, gray T-shirt. No makeup, no drink in front of her. Raphael couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was doing in a bar.

She chatted with the bartender, and traced designs in the top of the bar. Finally, he stood up and walked over to her, leaving his empty glass on the table and burying his hands in his trenchcoat. He pulled the hat low over his forehead, glad that the lights in the bar were dim, and sat down in the barstool next to her. "Buy you a drink?" he offered.

She turned and looked at the shadowed, faceless figure next to her. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'm too young to drink."

He couldn't help but steal a glance at her, surprised that she'd said that when the bartender was standing so close. Of course, he wasn't nearly old enough to drink either, but nobody here knew that. "What'll it be, Raph?" Missy asked, leaning forward on the bar, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. She could pretty much guess what his answer would be. The dark figure had been visiting her bar frequently the past few weeks. She knew he wasn't a hard drinker, probably just starting. She had a feeling he probably wasn't old enough to be in here, but since she'd never seen his face, she couldn't be sure. And she didn't want to harrass him. He was a good customer, not the rowdy type that seemed to be around more and more frequently lately.

"Know any good harems around here?" he joked.

Missy crossed her arms over her chest, smiling. Coming from anyone else, she might have been offended. But she knew that was just Raphael's sense of humor. The blonde sitting next to him didn't. "Harems?" she exclaimed, surprised.

Raphael laughed quietly. "I'm kidding. Margarita."

Missy turned to make the drink and Clarisse stared at the figure beside her. "So what, exactly, are you doing here if you're not going to drink?" he asked her.

She sighed. "I was waiting for someone," she explained. "But it doesn't look like she's going to show up."

Missy set the drink in front of Raphael and picked up the cash he'd set on the bar. How did he always manage to do that while she wasn't looking? As rediculous as it sounded, she'd never even seen his hands. She didn't know if he was black, white, or purple with pokadots. He stared at the drink, his hands under the bar. Finally, she turned away and laughed to herself at his secrecy.

He felt around mentally, to see if anyone was watching him. The blonde was, but she turned away after a moment of silence. He lifted the drink to his lips, then set it down and buried his hands again. "So what's your name?" he asked.

The girl turned. "Oh," she exclaimed, sounding like she was thrown by his question. "Um, Leigh."

He smiled to himself. She probably wasn't any older than he was, and a lot less comfortable with being here. "I'm Raphael."

She looked up, and he didn't manage to look away fast enough. He heard her gasp and she nearly fell off of the barstool. Shit. This was gonna cause a scene now. He got ready to bolt, if need be. "I, uh, I have to go," Leigh stammered quickly as she struggled to regain her balance. He sighed and looked away as she stumbled out of the bar. As the customers became engrossed in their own worlds again, he downed the rest of the drink and tossed a tip on the counter.

He was almost to the door when his attention was diverted. "Strike out again?"

He turned and studied the man in the booth. He was probably in his late 20s, with light brown hair and a pale complexion. He wore a black jean jacket and a red T-shirt with faded jeans. "S'cuse me?" Raphael challenged. Who did this guy think he was?

"Wanna know the secret?" the man offered.

"No," Raph answered. "Thanks anyway."

He turned to leave again. The guy was probably one of those talkative drunks. Raph hated people like that. "I could make you human, Raphael."

Raphael stopped. He turned around to face the man slowly. "How do you know my name?" he demanded.

The man nodded toward the bar. "You just told it to your blonde friend. I was on the other side of her."

"How'd you hear it from way over here?" The rest of his sentence slowly sunk in. "And what do you mean, make me human? What the fuck are you on?"

The man smiled. "Have a seat," he gestured.

Raphael eyed the door, then walked hesitantly to the man. He sat down across the table from him, making sure to keep his hands under the table. The man noticed. "It's okay," he assured. "I already know." 

"You know _what_?" Raph challenged.

"About you," he nodded. "What you are. Granted, I don't know how you _got _that way. Maybe you could enlighten me?"

"Why are we talking?" Raphael demanded.

The man laughed. "Direct. I like that." He leaned back. "My name's Raymond. And I'm here to help you."

"Well, my name's Raphael. And I'm listening."

"My partners and I are conducting an experiment," Raymond informed. "We need a... volunteer to help us."

"You're scientists?" Raph guessed.

Raymond was caught off guard. "Yes."

Raphael stood up. "Go to hell."

Raymond sighed as he turned and walked away. Then he reached for his cell phone. "Hello, this is Adam."

"Hey, bud, got your tranq ready?"

"Locked and loaded."

"Good, 'cause he's not cooperating."

"Told ya he wouldn't."

"Just get ready. He should be coming out in just a minute here."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "Okay, I think I see him. Beige trenchcoat?"

"Yep, that's him."

"Right. Pat's standing by to pick him up. Be ready to get outta here pronto."

Raphael could feel someone watching him as he walked out of the building. He kept his eyes moving, acutely aware of everything around him. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He knew there was danger nearby even if he couldn't see it. That was okay. He didn't mind roughing it up with a few scientists, except that an adrenaline rush was not going to help him to sleep tonight. He stayed alert.

It was as if he'd heard the dart whistle through the air. He ducked out of the way and looked up toward where it had come from. His eyes located a figure on the roof, and he watched for signs of a second shot. His eyes were still adjusting when he realized there was a second shooter. He didn't have time to duck as a shot came from a different rooftop. Pain struck his forearm and instinctively reached for the wound. The toxin worked fast. He didn't even have time to _try _and run.


	4. Love & Instinct

****

CHAPTER THREE

LOVE AND INSTINCT

Danger Incarnate: Okay people. I'm supposed to tell you that Sss979 had nothing to do with the sex scene in this chapter because it's slightly kinky and not her style. 

Sss979: Not entirely sure it fits your CHARACTERS' style either.

Danger: *frustrated sigh* Will you shut up? It's EROTICA, okay? It's supposed to be erotic by definition. They were the only two characters I HAD.

Sss979: *whispers to readers* Just don't encourage her...

Danger: *glares at S* I told them, okay? Is that good enough? Can you untie me now? I told them you had nothing to do with this sex scene.

Sss979: *eyes Danger suspiciously as she absently toys with her whip* You might wanna tell them where they can find it.

Danger: Oh yeah. If you're over 17 and don't get offended by sex and MILD kink (heh) go to **http://www.angelfire.com/ok5/tmnt/where/ch3.html**** to read this chapter.**

Sss979: And as with ALL OTHER NC chapters in this book, if there's a link and you wanna read it, DON'T START reading it here because sometimes the scene falls in the middle of the passage or at the beginning.

Danger: And for the record, that whip wasn't for me.

Sss979: No, and neither are the handcuffs. We're not actually lesbians.

Danger: We're expecting company.

Sss979: Hee hee.

Raphael awoke in mid sentence. He was talking, in his sleep. His eyes opened and he glanced around the room. An unfamiliar man was seated nearby, scribbling on a pad of paper. Raphael tried to sit up, but realized that he was strapped to the table. What the...?

Adam looked up and saw the creature straining against the leather straps. He grabbed the phone next to him and speed dialed Matthew. "It's awake."

Raphael jerked at the sound of his voice. "Who the fuck are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

The man smiled politely. "Don't be afraid. Nobody's going to hurt you."

Raph glared at him. He sounded like he was talking to a frightened kitten. "Fuck you, jackass. Where the hell am I?"

A door opened somewhere, but Raphael couldn't turn his head enough to see it. "Let's get him to tech room," a woman's voice said. "They're talking again."

The man walked to him and placed a mask over his mouth and nose. Raphael strained against the bonds, and tried not to breathe. But it was no use. He gave in reluctantly, and took in a breath of sweet-smelling air. He felt confusion set it. A splitting headache formed behind his eyes and blurred his vision. He closed his eyes, and listened as bits and pieces of conversation filtered through the darkness. "... still somewhat sedated..."

"... know that it would..."

"... should take its blood pressure and..."

He moaned slightly and forced his eyes open again. He felt drugged, but he was determined to stay awake. "Where the fuck am I?" he demanded. It came out sounding a lot weaker than he intended it to.

"Let's move him now before..."

Patricia Callihan looked down on the turtle as they wheeled the stretcher down the hall. It was a fascinating specimen. She'd never seen anything like it. Its skin was thicker than a human's, its average temperature was slightly lower. Of course, it had been sedated all day. They'd had it almost a full twenty four hours now. Its pack hadn't yet realized that he was missing.

They walked into the tech room and took the restraints off of the half-conscious turtle. They moved it to a chair and retied it, then took the mask from its face. The figures on the monitors were talking again, in the language they assumed was Japanese. The girl was with them, seated on the couch with the one who wore the orange bandana. She was curled next to it, her head on its shoulder as it ran its three fingers through her hair. They had been talking quietly for some time now. The conversation was almost too quiet to be heard by the nearest microphone.

Raphael slowly regained consciousness. As his eyes opened, they widened in shock. A dozen small TV monitors and two larger ones were a few feet in front of him. They showed the lair from every angle. He was dumbfounded for a moment. Oh god, how much had he _told _them while he was asleep? How long had he been _out_? Dread crept into the deepest part of his soul. What did they want? Whatever it was, he immediately realized just how vulnerable his brothers were. How had they gotten into the lair without disturbing anything? How could they have put those cameras there? Fear flooded him.

Mike and Rei were sitting on the couch. He could hear their voices through the speakers. "Well, are we talking about something that has to be realistic?" Rei. Her voice was muffled, but he could make out the words.

Michaelangelo shrugged and smiled down on her. Raphael watched the screen, still in shock. "The whole idea is probably unrealistic."

"You think so?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I don't know what I think. I know what I'd _want_, but realistically...?"

She kissed his neck and snuggled closer to him. "What would you want?"

"What are they saying?"

The unfamiliar voice jerked Raphael back to reality. He looked to the speaker, still stunned. "What?" he choked.

"You _do _understand them, right?"

Raphael shook his head in disbelief. "You all are out of your fucking minds, you know that?"

One face among the four looked familiar. The guy from the bar. What did he say his name was? Raymond. That was right. Shit, he'd walked right into this...

Travinski stepped forward. "You're going to tell us what they're saying."

Raphael laughed sharply. "Like _hell_ I am!"

Callihan sighed. "This can be painless or it can be miserable for you. It's your choice."

Raph's eyes narrowed and he grinned evilly. "Bring it on, bitch."

"You wanna live?" Raymond asked.

"You gonna kill me?" Raph snapped back.

"Maybe."

"Be my guest."

He felt someone approach him to the side, but couldn't move. He looked in plenty of time to see a needle filled with clear liquid. He tensed just slightly as it entered his arm. "What the hell is that?"

"Maybe it'll kill you," Raymond grinned.

"Then again, maybe it's just water," the woman suggested.

Raphael looked back and forth between the two of them. They were playing psychology tricks. It probably was just water. They wouldn't go through all this to capture him so they could kill him. On the other hand, it could be one of a million different chemicals. He tried not to think of that.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "Don't even _try _to tell me that you couldn't find anyone else in the world who can translate Japanese for you."

"So it's Japanese then?"

"Told ya."

Raphael watched them for a moment before answering. He didn't want to offer them _any _information. "Maybe."

Raphael heard his name and tuned into the conversation in the speakers, ignoring the next sentence from his captors. "I haven't seen him since last night when you two were yellin' at each other."

Leonardo glanced at the clock. "I thought he was just hiding in his room all day, but he's not there."

"Well, maybe he came home and went out again," Rei suggested.

Leo shook his head. "I'm worried about him."

"He's probably fine, Leo."

"Yeah. If you go out looking for him, you're just going to piss him off," Mike added.

Leo considered that. "If he's not back in the morning, I'm _going _to go look for him."

"What are they talking about?"

Raphael glared at the man. "When they find me, they're going to kill you."

"Are they looking for you?"

"If they're not, they will be shortly."

"They haven't yet."

Leonardo left the room. Mike turned his attention back to Rei. "It's almost nine o'clock."

"Mmm hmm."

"Want to go to bed?" he grinned.

She smiled back at him. "Mmm hmm."

Raphael's eyes closed as he recognized that look on his brother's face, even from afar. _No guys, please don't do that._

His silent prayer went unanswered. He led her into his room and closed the door. Raphael felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as his brother lay Rei gently back on the bed, kissing her deeply as he followed her. 

"But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" he whispered as his hands ran down her sides. "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!" 

Raphael looked away, unwilling to watch this.

"Anybody want to put money on whether or not they can actually have intercourse?"

"You guys are sick, you know that?" Raph shot coldly.

Dr. Alex laughed. "Aw, come on," he smiled. "Just sit back and enjoy it. Just like a porno movie."

"Knock it off, Raymond," Dr. Richardson chastized. The turtle closed his eyes and didn't move. It was as if he'd stopped _breathing_.

"What's he saying?" Callihan asked. For once, the question wasn't directed at Raphael.

The turtle on the screen kissed the woman deeply. "Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon," he breathed. "Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she."

"He's quoting Shakespeare," Dr. Travinski realized. "Romeo and Juliet."

Michaelangelo pulled away slightly and brushed his fingers over the side of Rei's face, drawing her eyes to his. "Be not her maid," he sighed, "since she is envious, Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it, cast it off."

She closed her eyes and relaxed under his touch. His hand trailed down, unbuttoning her shirt slowly. "It is my lady, Oh it is my love, Oh that she knew she were."

She could feel her breathing quicken as he slipped his hand underneath her shirt and caressed bare skin. "She speaks, yet she says nothing." He kissed her neck and she tilted her head away from him, begging him to continue. "What of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it."

"He's good," Dr. Travinski mumbled.

"Yeah," Callihan agreed. "He's better at foreplay than my husband is!"

"Well, that's not what I meant," Richardson observed, deep in thought. "He has the mental capacity to remember entire passages of Shakespeare. It's amazing."

Raphael couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew damn well that Mike had more than one of Shakespeare's plays memorized, start to finish. Splinter had made them read Romeo and Juliet and Julius Caesar, but Raph knew Michaelangelo had read and memorized a lot more than that. But as much as he wanted to shoot some smartass remark at the spectators, he kept his mouth shut and his head turned, out of respect for his brother.

Michaelangelo rose and kissed the woman softly. They stared at each other for a moment, saying nothing. "I am too bold," he smiled, cupping her chin. "'Tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes, To twinkle in their spheres till they return."

She closed her eyes and he kissed her lashes. "What if her eyes were there, they in her head?" He moved down and kissed her cheek, to her ear. He bit her earlobe gently, touching it just slightly with his tongue. "The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp," he whispered into her ear. His warm breath against her skin brought a smile to her face. He kissed her again, his hand roaming gently over her body.

"Her eyes in heaven, Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing and think it were not night."

"I wonder if it's learned repetition," Alex suggested. "Like he remembers things that he's heard over and over again."

"What, like a parrot?" Travinski mumbled.

"Well, sort of. If he has the capability to vocalize, you can teach him to say anything."

Raphael felt his blood boil. "You're a fucking moron, you know that?" he shot, glaring at the man who'd delivered the suggestion.

"What he's doing requires no critical thinking," Dr. Alex murmured. "Only the ability to repeat something he's learned from somewhere and the natural instinct to reproduce."

"I don't see too much Shakespeare on the Discovery Channel, doc," Raphael snapped.

"Yes, his actions do show a level of consciousness that most animals don't posess," Richardson observed.

"It's as if he actually loves her," Callihan agreed.

"No fucking shit," Raph growled, turning away again.

"These things might be more human than we thought they were."

"Yes, but how?" Travinski wondered. "How did they _become _so human?"

Rei felt a rush of warmth surge through her veins as Mike's fingers slipped under the waistband of her pants. He touched her hip, massaging gently, and kissed her again. "See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek."

She tried to feed him the answering line, but all she could manage was a slight moan. "She speaks," he grinned, pulling away to look at her. "Well, sort of."

She laughed and draped her arms over his shoulders. "Ay me," she managed.

"Speak again, bright angel," he whispered. "For thou art, As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven..."

"Hey, Romeo?" she interrupted.

"Yeah, baby?" he smiled, kissing her bare shoulder.

"Think you could speed this up a little?" she joked.

****

***

Leonardo was pacing in the living room when Mike opened his bedroom door. He sighed. "He didn't come home, did he?"

"No," Leo answered.

"Maybe he's with a girlfriend," Mike suggested.

"For two days?" Leo challenged.

"No. _One _day. Two nights. That's not too hard to believe."

Leo turned to him. "I can see the two nights. But why would he stay with her all day? And why wouldn't he call?"

"Gotta sleep sometime," Mike grinned.

"He would've called."

Michaelangelo sighed. "So you could chew him out, Leo? He probably just wanted to get away for a while."

"A _while_?" Leo cried. "Mike, it's been thirty-seven hours. Can you think of how many ways he could've _died _in that amount of time?"

Michaelangelo considered that for a moment, and sighed. "Okay," he mumbled. "So you wanna go look for him? In broad daylight?"

"Mikey, if he's in trouble we can't wait until nightfall."

The thought hadn't really occurred to him before now. Raphael always took off without telling anyone where he was going. It was nothing new. And it had never worried him before. But as he thought about it, he usually _did_ call, if only just to let everyone know he was okay. They hadn't heard from him at all. "You try calling Casey?" Mike suggested.

"Casey just got out of the hospital. He hasn't seen Raph."

"What about that other friend of his? Brandon?"

"Last time he saw him was Saturday night."

Donatello walked into the room. "Hey guys. What's going on?"

"Trying to figure out where Raph is," Mike answered.

Donny froze. "What, he hasn't come home yet?"

"No. And I'm starting to worry."


	5. Experiments

****

CHAPTER FOUR

EXPERIMENTS

Raphael dropped to his hands and knees and heaved. There was nothing in his stomach. But if there was, it would've been all over the floor. His skin tingled and his head spun, and he gasped air as he knelt on the floor of the white room. What the hell were they doing to him? He couldn't even guess at how many injections he'd received in the past week. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything; they fed him through an IV. It took him a while to realize that was all he was going to get, and he stopped fighting them about it. Without it, he felt like he was dying. And he was becoming more and more convinced that it wouldn't bother them in the least if he happened to expire.

He dropped his head between his shoulders and felt his body shudder. Part of him screamed to get back up. It was instinct to fight this feeling of weakness and vulnerability. But he knew that there was nowhere for him to go if he pulled himself up off the floor. The room was sealed. Hell, they could cut off his _air _supply if they wanted to. It was empty, and white except for the square on one wall where the one-way glass stared at him, and he could see himself dying. He _was _dying. Whatever they were doing to him, it was killing him.

"Was that the last dose?" Travinski mumbled.

"Yeah," Callihan answered, amazed.

"You think this is a reaction?"

She shook her head. "Not like any I've ever seen before."

"Maybe it's delayed from the earlier doses."

She shook her head again. "No. They were totally flushed from his system before I exposed him to anything more."

He turned and watched the animal through the window. It collaped to the floor, its eyes sliding closed. "If he isn't immune to it, how long will it take before we know?"

"It'll start multiplying immediately," she mumbled. "We'll know by morning, just by his blood count. If there's more of it, it's multiplying. If there's less..." She shook her head slowly in disbelief. "He's killing it off."

"Just like everything else."

"Yes," she whispered. "Like everything else."

Travinski watched for a moment. The creature looked like it was asleep. "Assuming it survives this, too... What's the next step?"

She sighed. "Dr. Richardson wants to manipulate its DNA. He wants to see if there's some way..." Her voice trailed off as she became lost in thought.

"Some way to what?" he prodded.

She glanced at him. "It said that a mutagen changed it, right?" she questioned.

"Yes, when we first captured it." He flipped through his notes. "It was a turtle first. But the rat that lives with them was a human first." He closed his notebook. "I doubt it remembers saying that, though, since it was sedated pretty heavily."

"Tell me, doctor," she mumbled. "If you were dying... would you be willing to look like that in order to survive?"

Travinski studied the figure. "Pat, these things aren't human."

"No," she agreed. "They're animals with mutated DNA. But if what he was saying is true, if the rat was a human first, then it's possible to change a _human _into this form."

"Then maybe it's the rat we need to be talking to."

She sighed. "I don't think the rat will be willing to talk. And if it _was _human, even if it's not now... I don't know. That's walking a fine line. I don't think we have any right to take him against his will." There was a long silence. "And I don't think we need him," Callihan continued. "This one should be enough."

"Enough for what?" he questioned.

"Enough for everything we need to do, to make this work."

***

Dr. Richardson looked up as the file folder landed in front of him. Patrica Callihan stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and a smile on her face. He picked up the folder. "Good news, I gather?" he guessed.

"He's _completely _immune," she told him. "I've never seen anything like it. His white blood count is off the charts and he's perfectly healthy in every way."

Richardson thumbed through the records. "Did he get sick at _all_?" he questioned.

"He had dry heaves for about fifteen minutes after the last dose, and he fell asleep. We monitored him throughout the night. Breathing, heartrate, blood pressure... never rose, never fell. He woke up a few times, looked around, went back to sleep. He wouldn't tell us how he was feeling, but I don't imagine it was too bad from the way he was fighting this morning."

"Did you sedate him?"

"No. We put him back in the room. He tried to kick the door down, but other than that..."

Dr. Richardson chuckled. "He must be feeling pretty good then."

"And it's almost totally out of his system. _All _of it. In less than twelve hours."

The man felt a smile cross his face. "It's amazing."

"Amazing? Shit, it's the reinvention of the _wheel_!" she cried. "Do you realize what this _means_? We've got the vaccine _and _the cure for every known virus on the face of the planet in one shot!"

"It doesn't mean anything unless we can apply it," he reminded her. 

She sat down across from him. "What are the chances, realistically, that we can isolate that part of his DNA that's different?"

"Isolate it?" he mumbled, deep in thought. "Yes. Duplicate it?"

"Well, it must be possible. Something had to make them the way they are."

"And whatever it was meshed two completely different kinds of DNA together and made them one. That's not an easy process to duplicate. And there's also the possibility that not all of them _have _such immunity. We've only worked with _one _specimen. That's not enough for conclusive evidence."

"So we need to capture another one."

"For the board to accept this as fact? Yes. We need a variable."

She nodded slowly. "And then what?"

"Well, _if _this theory is proven. If they really are so unsusceptable to disease..."

"We'll attempt to recreate the mutagen," Callihan finished. Richardson nodded. "Do you have any idea how?"

The man considered that. "Perhaps we could reverse the process somehow," he suggested. "And turn him back into an ordinary turtle."

"Or into a human," Callihan smiled.

Richardson studied her for a moment. "That could have very dangerous legal ramifications," he concluded. "I mean, with the controversy raised over experiments like cloning, you don't think the American public will raise hell over turning animals into humans?"

Dr. Callihan shrugged. "Who says they have to know?"

***

Michaelangelo leaned forward on the ledge and looked down at the city streets. It was getting dark again, and he was waiting for that second wind. But it wasn't coming. He wanted so badly to close his eyes. Just to lay down right here on the rooftop and go to sleep. But he couldn't do that. He knew he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to get back up.

"Mike?"

He turned as Leonardo appeared behind him, and nearly fell over. His coordination was all messed up. He could barely stand. "Find anything?" he asked.

Donatello stepped out of the shadows and leaned against his bo. "Think we found the bar he went to," he informed. "The bartender's name is Missy, and she recognized his name."

"Described him pretty well, too," Leo added. "Personality, at least. Never saw his face."

"Which would also be consistant with him."

"What'd she say?" Mike questioned. "Does she know where he is?"

Leo studied his brother. He looked like he was about ready to drop dead. Leonardo wasn't surprised. Of all of them, Michaelangelo seemed the most worried. Not that Leo _wasn't _worried. He'd had a hard time sleeping, knowing that his brother was missing and possibly dead. He hadn't slept soundly in the week and a half that Raphael had been gone. But he wasn't sure that Mikey had slept at _all_. Rei was worried about him, and he didn't blame her. He knew all too well the way that Mike could get when he lost control. 

It wasn't time to panick yet. After all, this was Raph they were talking about. He could handle himself pretty well. And it would be just like him to waltz through the front door some night acting like nothing was wrong, and yell at Leo for daring to be worried. And if he _was _in trouble, it was only a matter of time before they got an ultimatum from Shredder, or they found him and rescued him. He could last until then. Raphael was strong. No one knew that better than Leo. But still, he couldn't shake the fear that rested deep inside of him.

Splinter was worried, but he tried not to show it. It was pointless. They all knew him too well. He spent hour after hour meditating, and he never came up with anything conclusive about where his son might be. That, perhaps, was the one thing that worried Leonardo. If Splinter couldn't find him in his mind, how were they supposed to find him in the outside world?

"She said he might have left with a man he was talking to," Don answered. "Tall, dark hair, mustache, glasses. Could've been Middle Eastern, but she wasn't sure."

"Any idea?" Leonardo asked. He knew that of all of them, Mike would know best who Raphael's friends were.

Michaelangelo shook his head slightly, his eyes closing on their own. "I don't know him."

Leo watched him for a moment. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep," he suggested.

"No," Mike protested firmly, forcing his eyes open again.

"Mike, you're exhausted," Leo observed. "Just take a few hours. We'll keep looking."

Leo realized too late that he'd said something _very _wrong. "I'm _fine_!" Mike yelled. "Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I can't keep up!"

"I didn't mean it like that," Leo protested.

"Well how did you mean it, Leo?" he yelled. The frustration had been building inside of him and he stood back and watched as it all came spilling out of his mouth. What burned him was that he knew his brother was right. He _wasn't _as strong as they were, and that hurt. Especially since this was his best friend they were talking about. "I'm fucking _fine_, okay!"

At that moment, Leo knew he wasn't fine. When Mike started to sound like Raph, he was _way _past the point of fine. He needed sleep, or maybe Rei to talk to him and calm him down. Probably both. Whatever he needed, he sure as hell wasn't going to get it out here. "Go home, Mike," he ordered.

"No."

"That wasn't a suggestion," Leo informed.

Mike clenched his teeth and felt tears well up in his eyes. He spun away from his brothers before they could see him cry.

***

Raphael awoke slowly to the sounds around him. They were back. Damn them. Maybe he could pretend to be asleep for a little longer. He felt a needle touch his arm and gasped at the sudden fire of whatever they'd injected into him. His eyes flew open involuntarily. "Good evening," Alex smiled sadistically.

"You bastard," Raphael mumbled under his breath.

The man walked behind him. He wasn't the only one in the room, Raph knew. There were at least two of them. Raphael's attention was drawn first to the soreness in his arm and then to the wall of monitors in front of him. For whatever reason, they'd left him in here for the night. He didn't mind. It gave him more to look at than the white room. As always, the lights were dim, and he could see his home clearly. 

Rei was asleep on the couch, the TV dancing with images from a show Raph didn't recognize. Michaelangelo stood behind the couch for a moment, looking down on her. Then he turned away and headed toward his room.

"Let's leave it alone until morning." Raphael could hear the quiet murmuring from behind him. "We don't wanna shock its system until that drug runs its course or it could have a heart attack."

Raph closed his eyes, clenching his teeth in anger and humiliation. When he got out of here...

They left him alone. Well, not quite alone. He was well aware of the cameras in the room, watching him. And although he was fully awake, he kept his head down and eyes closed. After a few minutes, he heard a quiet crying. He raised his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly.

Michaelangelo lay on his bed, face hidden in his arms, crying as quietly as he could manage. He wanted to scream. The frustration and the fear couldn't help him to push past the exhaustion. He was totally drained. Mike didn't like ultimatums, especially when they came from Leonardo. So now he was home, and now he felt guilt overwhelm him. He shouldn't be here, resting in his warm bed when Raph was out there, god knows where.

He heard the door open slowly, but he ignored it. There was only one person it could be, and he didn't need to turn around to see her. The mattress shifted slightly as she sat down on the edge of the bed and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Mikey?"

Hot tears burned his cheeks as he considered whether or not to answer her. "Leave me alone, Rei," he pleaded. "I don't wanna talk right now."

She said nothing. After a moment of silence, she stood up. But she didn't leave the room. He could feel her presence as she walked around the bed and undressed silently. She slipped into bed beside him and pressed to his side, one hand under her head and the other on his shoulder. She was silent for a long time. 

Eventually, his tears stopped. He wiped his eyes roughly as he turned onto his side, facing her. She pressed into him and he embraced her weakly, feeling the warmth of her breasts against his plastron. "You're a mess," she whispered, wiping a streak of mud from his face. "Why do you come to bed like this? You should take a shower."

"I'm too tired," he breathed back.

She untied his bandana and carressed the side of his face gently. "Well, that's not surprising," she sighed. "You haven't slept in two days."

He was quiet for a moment. She pulled his mask away from his face and turned to set it on the bedside table. Then she pressed close to him again, tucking her head under his chin. "I feel guilty, Rei."

"Why?"

"I should be looking for him."

"Mikey, you're exhausted."

"No, Rei, you don't understand," he whispered. He pulled away and their eyes met. "If anything happens to him..."

"...it will _not _be your fault," she interrupted him, resting a hand against the side of his face.

He looked away from her. "I don't know what I'd do..." he murmured. He sounded like a lost child, and he knew it. "Rei, I..."

Tears stung his eyes again and he was only slightly surprised to find her kissing him. She pulled away slowly, her hands resting against the sides of his face. "Michaelangelo, you are _going _to find him."

"No," he corrected. "I am going to stay here and try to sleep while my brothers keep looking."

She sighed. "Mike, you can't help that you..."

"... are too damn weak to keep looking for my best friend when he could be _dying _out there?" he interrupted angrily. 

She jerked away from him. "Michaelangelo, you listen to me," she snapped. "You are not Leonardo and you will _not _push yourself as hard as he does because you _can _not." He stared at her, somewhat shocked. "And Raphael knows that. He knows you and he knows what your capable of and he knows as well as I do that if you weren't _forced _to come back here, you would keep looking until you dropped dead. Now do you really think he'd ask you to do that?"

He was dumbfounded. He hadn't said anything about the argument with Leo, but she somehow knew anyway. Her face softened and she rested her hand against the side of his neck. "You sleep, Mike," she ordered quietly. "Relax, and sleep, and give your body and your emotions a chance to recover."

She kissed him gently and he welcomed her, not sure what else to do. "I love you, Michaelangelo," she whispered. "And I know you'll do your best. And Raphael knows that too."

Raphael hung his head, and heard only silence from the speakers. Somewhere far away, his brother was half-dead from searching for him, and he hated to see it. His eyes slid closed as whatever drug they'd given him began to take effect, and he felt sick to his stomach. _Rest, Mikey,_ he pleaded silently._ I'm okay..._


	6. Losing Control

****

CHAPTER FIVE

LOSING CONTROL

NC-17 scene: http://www.angelfire.com/ok5/tmnt/where/ch5.html

"This is getting us nowhere," Donatello mumbled, flopping down on the couch. "We've searched every hideout and back alley in this city. If he was dead, we would've found his body by now."

"I don't think he's dead," Leonardo sighed.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Leo."

"What are they saying?"

Raphael glared at the man. "Go to hell."

He sighed. "Is it so difficult to just cooperate with us?"

"Keep your goddamn tubes and needles outta my body and we'll talk."

"Raphael is alive."

The four figures in the room all turned as Master Splinter walked into the room. "_Konbanwa , Sensei_," Leonardo greeted.

He bowed slightly. "Good evening, Leonardo."

Raphael was surprised at the comfort he drew from his _sensei's _voice. He couldn't explain it, but for some reason, it caused his body to relax just slightly. He knew that Splinter had been trying to reach him. He could feel it, as he slipped in and out of consciousness. In that place where he was not awake nor asleep, he could feel the familiar presence. But he couldn't answer. He felt so separated from himself, so confused. And it seemed the only times that he was conscious, they were pumping drugs into him, or asking him questions. There was no time to meditate, or he would have done it long ago.

"Have you reached him, Splinter-sama?" Rei questioned.

He sighed deeply. "I have not," he answered her. "But I do know that he is alive."

"How do you know?"

Splinter shook his head. "I cannot explain it," he informed. "It is as if he is unable to speak, but his presence is very much alive."

Raphael breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that as long as they thought he was alive, they wouldn't stop looking for him. "What if he left willingly?" Rei suggested. "Like, permanently left. Where would he go?"

"He wouldn't do that without saying goodbye," Mike answered.

Leonardo sighed. "And if for some reason he did, Master Splinter would be able to reach him."

"What if he didn't _want _to be reached?"

"Why would he let us worry like this?" Michaelangelo sighed.

"To make a point," Leo mumbled under his breath. "And he damn well made it so he might as well come home now."

Donatello sighed. "Splinter, can you tell at _all _where he is?"

The rat considered that for a moment. "I sense that he is not nearby. Perhaps even outside of the city."

"When I find him, I'm going to rip his fucking head off of his body," Leonardo mumbled, switching to English. _Sensei _glared at him and he turned away. The words had slipped, but he didn't apologize for them. He meant them fully. If this was Raphael's idea of making a point...

"Knock it off, Leo," Mike shot at him. 

Raphael cringed. _No guys, don't talk in English..._

"Sorry," Leo mumbled, closing his eyes. "I just need..." He shook his head, as if he couldn't find a suitable way to end that sentence, then turned and walked to his bedroom. He knew he was losing his cool, and he needed to stop before it got out of hand.

Rei jabbed Mike's thigh with her toes, and he glanced at her. She was laying against the arm of the couch. He was sitting correctly at the other end. She stretched her leg out, resting her foot in his lap, and smiled. "Please?"

He sighed as he reached down and lifted her heel. He began to massage at the bottom of her foot. "Okay, so where do we look now?" Donatello questioned, watching them disinterestedly. "Where would he go, outside of the city?"

Travinski watched, amused, as he began to piece together the conversation. It didn't take him long to figure out who they were talking about. "Does he _know _anyone outside the city?" Rei questioned. Out of the corner of his eye, Travinski saw the one who had left sit down, cross legged on his floor. He thought about boosting the gain on the camera, to make it more visible in the dark light, but he wasn't interested enough in what the lone turtle was doing. The conversation was much more appealing.

"Mikey?"

Michaelangelo kept his eyes down. He'd known that question was directed at him before Rei had mentioned his name. He jabbed at a pressure point in the ball of her foot. "Ow!" she laughed, pulling away. He let her go. "Was I not supposed to ask that?"

He couldn't help but smile. Brilliant, wasn't she?

"Michaelangelo..." Splinter prodded.

Mike sighed. "Yeah, he does. But I already talked to her and she hasn't seen him."

"How'd you talk to her?" Don questioned.

"She's a college student. I talked to her before she went off on fall break."

"So where is she now?"

"She lives upstate."

"Could you get there?"

Michaelangelo nodded again, and offered half-hearted directions. It was the first time in all his life that he was sharing something Raphael had _specifically _asked him not to. Donatello and Splinter looked at each other. "Well, if you can get there, go," Don ordered. Mike glanced at him. "See if he's there. She might've just lied."

He shook his head. "I don't think she lied."

"We must be sure, Michaelangelo," Splinter sighed. "Until we find him, we will continue to retrace the same pattern of steps, over and over."

Michaelangelo sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Where are the keys?"

***

Rei glanced at the speedometer. The road was empty, and the setting sun was just starting to make it difficult to see. Rei didn't want to think of what might happen if they hit a deer at eighty miles an hour. The engine wasn't liking this speed, either. "Mikey?" she asked quietly.

He didn't answer. She saw the needle climb higher and the van shook as it protested. It was not made to go this fast, and she wasn't sure what was going to happen when he reached a hundred. She slid next to him in the bench seat and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Mikey, ease off," she whispered. "You're going too fast."

It was as if he were in a trance, like he didn't even hear her. She was going to have to get a little more insistant. She rested her head on his shoulder and reached her hand up to press against his opposite cheek. "Michaelangelo, relax," she urged. "You're not gonna do him any good if you're dead."

He let off the gas slowly, and their speed dropped. The speed limit was fifty; he settled for sixty-five. But it felt like they were crawling. He felt Rei nuzzle against him, her warm fingers running down the side of his face to his neck. "Shhh... It's okay."

His body relaxed slowly, but his mind continued to race. What if he wasn't there? If Raphael didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. Michaelangelo knew that. But why now? Why would he disappear now, especially without telling anyone where he was going? But they'd checked all the bars, all his friends that they knew of; every back alley and dumpster was searched with sickening feelings in the pits of their stomachs. Oh god, he didn't want to find a body. He would rather believe that his brother had run off to the tropics somewhere than to find him dead. But at the same time, he knew he'd never rest until he found out what had happened.

"He's not there, Rei," he choked, realizing the painful truth.

"How do you know?"

He shook his head slowly. "I just do," he mumbled. "It's just... a feeling. And I think they know it too. They're just... not ready to accept it." He sighed deeply. "And I'm not so sure I am, either."

Rei sighed, tracing the edge of his plastron with her fingers. "Accept what?"

"That he's in trouble," he whispered. "Or he's dead. Leo's still pissed off, like he left." He glanced at her. "But he wouldn't leave, Rei. Not like that. Not for no reason."

"He and Leo were fighting," she reminded him.

"So? They always fight. He's never run out on us because of it."

"Maybe it was just the last straw, Mikey," she suggested. He didn't answer. 

She leaned into him and kissed his cheek. "If anything's happened to him, Rei..." he finally whispered.

She sighed, running her fingers down the sensitive skin on his sides. He was so tense... "Relax," she whispered. "It's okay..."

***

A woman who looked to be in her late forties answered the door. "Hi," Rei greeted. "I'm looking for Esperanza?"

"Yeah, she's here. Just a minute."

The woman looked over his shoulder and called out the girl's name. A moment later, a hispanic girl in her early twenties answered the door. "Can I help you?"

"Hi," Rei smiled. "I'm looking for Raphael."

Esperanza tensed noticeably. "Who are you?"

"I'm a friend," she answered.

"_My _friend," Michaelangelo added, stepping out of the shelter of the bushes. 

Esperanza's eyes widened and then she smiled. "Michaelangelo," she greeted. She slipped out of the house and closed the door behind her. "I told you, I haven't seen Raph."

Michaelangelo's heart sank. He hadn't thought she was lying, but something inside of him had hoped, just maybe, he would be here. "When was the last time you saw him?" Rei asked.

Esperanza shook her head. "We broke up almost a month ago; I haven't seen him since." Mike's eyes closed slowly. He wasn't really surprised that his brother hadn't told him that, but he was disappointed. He hadn't even thought to ask her that the other night. "Is he still missing?"

Rei glanced at Mike, and decided to answer that question herself. "It's probably nothing just... he should've called by now, you know?"

Esperanza nodded, a concerned look crossing her face. "So you guys came all the way out from Manhattan?"

Mike looked up. "We've looked all over the city for him," he answered quietly. "You didn't tell me you guys broke up."

Esperanza sighed. "I'm sorry. But he's not here. I'd invite you to look but... my parents. You know."

Mike shook his head. "We'll find him," he told her, forcing a smile. "Thanks anyway."

He walked back to the van and waited for Rei to follow. She got into the passenger seat and shut the door. For a moment, it was silent. "Do you want to drive back tonight?" she asked. "Or do you want to get a motel?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he whispered.

She leaned over to him and turned his face to hers. "Mikey..."

He jerked away from her. "I said it doesn't fucking matter!"

She recoiled at his tone, and turned to look out the window. Mike jammed the keys into the ignition and slammed on the gas with the car in reverse. Rei lurched forward and nearly hit the dashboard. "Dammit, Mike!" she cried. "Knock it off! You're gonna get us killed."

Out in the street, he shifted to drive and hit the gas again. "Just shut up, Rei."

"Don't tell me to shut up!" she shot back at him. "What the hell is your problem? _I _didn't do anything here!"

Michaelangelo hit the steering wheel. "Stop," he ordered. "Just stop. I don't wanna talk right now."

"We don't have to talk; I just asked you a simple question."

He felt anger burn inside of him. He wasn't really angry at her, and he didn't want to take it out on her. But she was the only available target and if she didn't shut her mouth, he was going to lose it. She clenched her teeth and turned to look out the window. It was a two hour drive back to the city. And then he'd want to go up to the streets. This pattern was driving her insane. It wasn't that she didn't want to find Raph. But she knew that they weren't going to find him any faster with Mike on the brink of a psychotic episode.

"I want to get a motel," she said quietly.

"Fine!" he yelled. "We'll get a goddamn motel! Would you just shut _up_?"

She spun and glared at him. "You know, why don't you just pull the fucking car over and let me walk?" she shot at him. "Then you can have all the silence you want!" He clenched his teeth, gripping the steering wheel hard. "I have done nothing but support you and try to help you in any way I can since Raph disappeared and you have _no right _to bitch at me!"

He said nothing. There wasn't much he could say; he knew she was right. It didn't make the fire in his chest burn any less. He watched the road, concentrating on the broken sections of the yellow line as they passed by, one at a time.

The first motel they came to, he pulled into the parking lot. She slammed the door of the van so hard, he thought the glass was going to break out of the window. He sighed and rested his head on the steering wheel as she walked across the parking lot to the well lit office. What the hell was happening to him? He felt lost and angry. He shuddered as he realized that this wasn't the first time he'd felt this way. Only this time, there was no one to aim his anger at. Not even himself.

Rei left the office and his eyes followed her to a room on the first level. She unlocked the door, opened it, and walked in. The door closed behind her. Mike sighed. Okay, so she'd made her point. Especially when he couldn't _get _a room without her help. He leaned his head back against the chair and sighed. He could stay out here. He knew he was just as stubborn as she was, if not more so. He had heat, a half tank of gas, and the rest of the money. In fact, _he _was the one holding all the cards. She couldn't get _home _without _his _help.

He sighed. What the hell was he thinking? This had nothing to _do _with Rei, why was she suddenly the bad guy? Especially since not more than two hours ago, she'd gone _way _beyond any expectations he had of her, to try and keep him relaxed. He closed his eyes. He owed her for that. _Big _time. And this was _not_ the way to repay her.

He scanned the area for signs of movement, then turned the ignition off. He pulled his keys out and brought them with him as he jogged across the parking lot, avoiding what light he could. He stopped at the door and swallowed his pride as he knocked on it. If he fought with her, he knew he'd win in the morning. But he didn't want to fight. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed her right now. And it _was _his fault. She hadn't done anything wrong.

The door cracked open and she stared at him through the chain. He sighed. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She watched him for a moment. He tensed, standing under the bright lights. If anyone came out of their room, they would see him immediately. After a few seconds of nervous silence, she closed the door, slid the chain, and opened it. He stepped inside and waited for her to close the door before he wrapped his arms around her. He felt tears sting his eyes. "I'm just scared, Rei," he whispered into her hair.

She let her own anger slip away, knowing how true those words were. He was acting strange. She knew he wasn't really like this. But he was worried, almost panicked, and stress did funny things to his emotions. She'd known that from the moment she met him. She draped her arms over his shoulders, hugging him back. "I know," she answered. "It's okay."

He shuddered as he sobbed, and clung to her. She kissed the side of his face. "It's okay, Mikey."

***

Splinter awoke from a dead sleep to the sound of a scream. He sat up, tensed, and slowly realized that the scream had not been audible, but rather in his mind. His eyes darted around the dark, silent room. His senses were fully alert, although he had just woken up. He felt as if there were somebody with him, here in the room. For a long time, he didn't move. He smelled nothing, heard nothing.

Finally, he moved slowly, fully on guard, and found a match on the bedside table. He struck it, and his eyes immediately took in his familiar surroundings. He was alone, but he felt an impending danger. He lit the candle beside his bed and rose to his feet. Moving soundlessly, he walked into the living room. Leonardo was asleep on the couch, his weapons on the floor beside him. Splinter studied him for a moment, then turned his attention to the other rooms.

It took very little time for him to sweep through the lair. It was empty, but he still felt alerted. He considered waking Leonardo, but quickly pushed the idea aside. Donatello was not home, and he assumed that he was searching the city. Michaelangelo...

Something inside of him sparked at the thought of his absent son. He and Rei had gone to speak with Raphael's girlfriend. Rei had mentioned spending the night in a hotel, and that would explain why they were not home. There was no cause for alarm, except for the peculiar feeling.

Splinter walked back to his room and settled on the floor. He took a moment to clear his mind, concentrating on the air as it entered and exited his lungs. Then he began to probe at the strange feeling. It seemed to explode inside of him, and he fought to keep his mind focused rather than to allow himself to be caught up in the multitude of emotion. He was in danger. That much Splinter knew immediately. And he was asleep, and unaware.

_Michaelangelo... Wake up... You are in danger..._

***

Rei breathed deep and snuggled closer to the warm body beside her. His chest rose and fell as he drew in the stale air. Suddenly, his eyes opened. Something was wrong. His chest felt tight. He could almost hear the audible words of warning, and he paused for a moment. _Master Splinter?_

There was no responsive thought. He scanned the room silently, reacquainting himself with his surroundings. Hotel room. He remembered it. Door to his left, bathroom to the right. Closed window next to the door, and steady hum coming from the heater beneath it. Rei was sleeping soundly next to him, her head on his arm. To his other side, there was a bedside table and a clock that read 3:00. Three in the morning. Something had woken him.

The feeling intensified and he began to tense. He knew that feeling. It was danger, and it was near. "Rei?" he whispered, sitting up slowly. The room was too dark to see. Was someone here?

Rei moaned quietly as she woke up. "Mikey?"

"Shh!"

She rubbed her eyes, although it didn't help her to see. She could feel Michaelangelo pull away from her and instinctively wanted to draw close again. His body was warm, and it made her feel safe to lie in his arms. "Rei..." he started, his voice barely a whisper. "Reach down on the floor... Get my weapons."

Barely awake, the words surprised her. "Do what?"

He didn't have a chance to answer her. The door flew open. The lock had been broken; the chain was cut. Mike lunged across Rei as she screamed, trying to get to his _nunchakus. _If he could get them fast enough, he could roll to the floor and be on his feet before they had a chance to get in the room. But he only made it to his knees before he froze in the line of fire from a gun. There were only six of them, dressed in dark clothing, watching him as he stared down at the floor, gripping his weapons at his sides. He was ready to spring forward, to his feet. But several of those guns were pointed at Rei, and he couldn't take a risk like that.

"Drop your weapons," he was ordered.

"Who are you?" Rei demanded. "What do you want?"

Michaelangelo raised his eyes slowly. The men were military. He knew what they wanted immediately. More importantly, he now knew where Raphael was. It hit him all at once. Surprisingly, it invoked very little emotion on his part. "Let go of your weapons and put your hands behind your head," one of the men commanded.

It took Rei a little longer than it had taken Mike to figure it out. Her eyes widened in horror. "No! Mike no!"

Michaelangelo ignored her. He loosened his grip and raised his hands behind his head. "Stand up."

He stood. He closed his eyes, ignoring the strange mix of emotions that washed over him. For some reason, some crazy, unidentifiable reason, he wasn't afraid. The guns remained steady on Rei as one of the men approached him with handcuffs. He could take him, he knew. Even with the cuffs on, he could take him down. But he wouldn't get to the guns that were aimed at Rei. "I'll go with you," he told them. "Just leave her alone."

Rei felt fear flood through her as the handcuffs were snapped into place and the man pulled a covered needle from his belt. "No!"

She lunged at the man and gunshot rang out. She screamed and Mike's head spun around. He felt a needle puncture his upper arm, and saw Rei crouched at the edge of the bed, covering her head. The bullet had gone into the mattress. It was a warning shot. "I _said _I'll...!"

The world suddenly spun around him and he couldn't finish the sentence. Confusion flooded his mind and he moaned as everything turned into one neverending blur. Then it faded to black.

***

"Just take her to A. We'll do an ultrasound on her and then take her back."

Raphael opened his eyes slowly. The door was open. He was in... a cage? Bars separated him from the white walls. What the...?

"Maybe it's not a good idea for them to interact."

"I don't think it'll make too much of a difference."

"I don't know. Psychology plays a big role in the healing process."

"Thank you, doctor, for informing me."

There were two of them in the room, and a table that hadn't been there before. On the table was... oh God. Raphael felt anger flare inside of him and he was immediately awake. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"Don't worry about it, turtle, it's not your concern," Callihan called over her shoulder.

Raphael lunged at the bars. "Leave him alone you fucking...!"

He felt the dart enter his arm and he turned to look at the gun that had fired it. His senses were so dulled, he hadn't even felt it coming. He pulled the dart out, but he could already feel the drug pulsing through him. He glared at the man who had fired it. "I am going to kill you," he vowed, his voice holding no hint of exaggeration.

"Yeah yeah, I know," Alex laughed. "But right now, you're gonna go sleepy night-night."

Raphael fought the anesthesia for as long as he could, but his resistance was already low. He slumped against the bars, his eyes sliding closed. Alex walked to the new specimen and studied him for a minute. "Think we need to give him another dose?" Travinski asked.

"I doubt it," Callihan answered. "He's still pretty groggy."

"He looks a little smaller than the other one."

"Just a little," she confirmed. "Not a whole lot. They look like they were the same species before they were mutated."

"The girl's starting to wake up," Alex informed. "Should I keep her under?"

"Yes," she answered. "Definately. We'll deal with her in a minute, and then I'm gonna need you to take her back to the hotel."

"Gotcha."

Callihan inserted an IV into the back of the creature's hand as Alex walked away. "Well, that should get him started," she mumbled. "We'll see what happens."

Travinski smiled at the unconscious figure. "On to the girl?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Let's get this over with."

She sighed as she walked to the door. "God, I hate dealing with real people."


	7. Divided

****

CHAPTER SIX

DIVIDED

"Mike."

Pain. That was the first thing that registered in his mind.

"Michaelangelo. Hey. Wake up."

His body felt like it was on fire. He moaned. "God, my head..." he choked. "My whole..."

"I know," the voice came back. "You'll get used to it."

He didn't _want _to get used to it. He wanted it to _stop_. He came to slowly and realized he was on his side. "Am I dead?"  
"No."

He sucked in a breath of air that felt like it was tainted with burning chemicals. He couldn't move. He was strapped to a table, his arms bent in front of him. Something was over his mouth. Like an oxygen mask. But it wasn't oxygen he was breathing. He coughed and heard it echo in the mask. God, what were they doing to him?

He couldn't open his eyes. He gave up trying after a few moments. He could feel his veins pulse with venom, and he knew his arms were full of tubes. He could feel them in his legs as well. "Where am I?"

"Not real sure. But it ain't even remotely close to heaven."

"Maybe it's hell," he suggested, still groggy.

"You're not dead, Mikey. Even if you feel like it, you're not."

That voice. He knew that voice. "Raphael?"

"Yeah."

He tried again to open his eyes, but he was too weak. He sighed, defeated, and went limp as his muscles rebelled. He hurt all over. "Where's Rei?" he moaned.

"They took her to do an ultrasound. Then they're gonna let her go. At least that's what they said."

"Ultrasound," he repeated quietly. "What the hell for?"

Raphael sighed, closing his eyes. "Just don't worry about it, Mikey."

"No, tell me," his brother protested. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine."

"Then why?"

Raphael didn't answer. They hadn't told him why, but he knew. They wanted to know if she was pregnant. For her sake, he hoped she wasn't. Michaelangelo moaned, his thoughts lost. "Oh god..." He choked on the air that invaded his lungs. "What are they doing to me?"

Raphael was quiet for a moment. "Mikey?"

"Nnnnh...?"

"Did Leo and Don know where you were? When they found you?"

Michaelangelo tried to answer, but he couldn't make his vocal chords work. He exhaled the last bit of energy he had, and slipped away again. Raph watched him from inside the cage. They didn't want him messing with Michaelangelo, so they'd locked him up like an animal. He would've busted the damn thing if it weren't made of reinforced steel. He felt his fists clench. Even if it hadn't been, he doubted if he had the strength right now to break a piece of cardboard.

He breathed deep and rested his head back against the bars. For a moment, it was silent. Then the door opened. He eyed the woman as she unlocked the cage and stepped inside of it. "Don't even think about it," she warned, reading his look.

Raphael glared at her. "If I did, what would you do about it, you sadistic bitch?"

She knelt beside him. "If you touch me, I have every intention of shooting you." She looked up at him and smiled wickedly. "I have your balls in the palm of my hand, freak, so don't try anything stupid."

He kept his eyes trained on her, and didn't flinch as the needle entered his arm. They'd learned a long time ago not to do _anything _to him without first rendering him unconscious. Even the anesthesia was dangerous to administer, and Patricia knew not to attempt it without several armed guards. He had been particularly fierce since they had caught the other one.

His jaw remained clenched, and he watched her for as long as he could before his eyes slid closed. "Take him to B," she ordered as his body relaxed.

***

"Rei?"

Somewhere in the darkness, she heard a voice. She moaned slightly and reached beside her, searching for Michaelangelo. He wasn't there. She forced her eyes open and saw Leonardo kneeling at the side of her bed. "Leo?" she questioned, confused. "Where's Mike?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that," he answered.

Her eyes closed again. Leonardo watched her expectantly. "Rei?"

"Mmm?"

"You and Michaelangelo took the van and you went upstate," he informed her, enunciating every word. "To a motel. And what happened?"

She stretched. "What are you talking about, Leo?"

Fear flooded through him. Did she not remember? This was _not _the time for her to have amnesia. "You and Mike went for a long drive to go see Raph's girlfriend."

"Why?"

"To find Raphael."

She opened her eyes. "Why? Is he missing?"

Leonardo's heart sank. He felt as if the air had been squeezed from his lungs. "Yes," he managed, afraid he might choke on his own voice. "You went to find him. And you were gone all night and halfway through the next morning before Casey drove out there and found you in a motel."

"Where am I?"

"Rei, what happened to Mikey?"

She sighed, but didn't answer. He watched her as her breathing slowed and she fell asleep again. He bowed his head. "Oh, god."

"She's drugged, Leo," Donatello mumbled. "Just give her some time to come out of it."

"Donny, she's been home for almost five hours. That's not including the time she spent _getting _here!"

Donatello sighed. "What do you want me to do about it, Leo? You want me to run a blood test? Tell you what they drugged her with? Does it really matter all that much?"

Leo turned and glared at his brother. "Donny, they could be dead."

Donatello nodded solemnly. "And if they are, there's nothing either of us can do about it."

Leonardo closed his eyes and let those words sink in for a moment. Then he stood up and walked to the door. "Leo?" He turned and looked. He could tell Don wanted to say something, but he just shook his head and looked away. "Nothing."

He walked through the living room to his own bedroom. He closed the door and stood still. Nothing moved in the darkness. He walked into the center of the room and dropped to his knees. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he let them come. It was only here that he would allow himself to cry. And only in the darkness. He hid his face in his hands and broke down, control slipping through his fingers and spilling around him.

In a room a million miles away, the monitors went unwatched.

***

"Leonardo?"

There was no response from inside the room. Splinter did not wait for one. Leonardo had been locked in his room all day. He had not come out for anything. Splinter was worried. He opened the door and looked inside. 

His student was seated on the floor, his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He did not move as Master Splinter walked into the room and knelt in front of him. Then, finally, his eyes opened. There was a long pause, where neither of them spoke.

"Say something," Leonardo finally pleaded. "Make sense of all this. Tell me how to think, what to do."

He was answered with silence. Splinter knew that he could not give the answers his son sought. Leonardo knew it as well, and he looked away. Splinter sighed deeply. "I need you to deliver a message for me," he whispered.

Leonardo sighed. "What message?"

"When you find Raphael, I want you to tell him that he should not blame himself for this."

The words struck Leonardo. He watched his _sensei _intently. "You can tell him that yourself."

"_Iie_," Splinter sighed. "Where he is... my mind cannot go. It is as if... there is a barrier. One of pain and confusion that is stronger even than his mind."

Leonardo felt his heart clench in his chest. "What about Michaelangelo?"

Splinter stared straight at him, not avoiding his gaze. He did not answer. Leonardo felt tears sting the backs of his eyes. "Is he dead?" he choked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"I do not know," Splinter answered. "I feel nothing of him."

Leonardo bowed his head. "Master, if you cannot reach them, how do you expect me to?"

Master Splinter shook his head. "I do not expect such a thing."

"Then why tell me that?" he questioned. "For Raphael?"

A feeling of fear began to creep into Leonardo's soul as he watched his _sensei's_ eyes close. He knew the answer before any words were spoken. "I tell you because I know that I will not see Raphael again."

Leonardo shook his head. "Don't say that," he whispered, a feeling bordering panic seeping into his soul. "Don't say that; _sensei_, we're gonna get him back. _Both _of them. Alive. They'll be fine."

Splinter drew a deep breath of air into his lungs. "Leonardo, it is not them I speak of."

Silence. Those words hit Leonardo with the force of a _tsunami_. He felt as it he'd just been slapped in the face. How could he say that? How long had he known? How could Leonardo not notice? Had he been so blinded by everything else going on that he didn't see what was happening right in front of him? He could hardly bring himself to form the words he knew he had to say. "You're dying," he realized, struggling for air.

"A man begins to die the moment he is born," Splinter answered. "Let us say only that I am nearer to my end than you, and I wish to be sure that my message is delivered."

Leonardo gasped air. He couldn't be hearing this. Not now. _Please_ not now. He didn't know what he would do... "Please, no..." he choked.

Splinter smiled lovingly at the child who had grown to a man so much like himself. "Would you have me stop the course of time, Leonardo?" he whispered.

The student didn't know what to say. He looked away, hiding his face as tears began to flow steadily from his eyes. No. God, not now. He _needed _him now. "Leonardo, I am at peace with my life," Splinter whispered. "And I know you will do everything in your power to bring your brothers home safely, and to keep them together regardless of what may happen in your lives. I charge you with that, my son." Leonardo raised his eyes slowly. "Do not forget the force which binds you. Do not forget the power you possess when you are of one mind."

Leonardo dared not speak. There were a million things he wanted to ask, things he wanted to say. _How long? _he wanted to know. _How can I keep us together when half of our family is gone? How can you stand to be at peace, when you know they could be dead?_ He bowed his head again, clenching his teeth and accepting the words with determined resolve, asking nothing. Master Splinter smiled and rested a hand on his student's head. "Take heart, my student," he whispered. "I have taught you everything I know. And I have great faith in you."

Leonardo nodded slightly, and Splinter rose to his feet. He was almost to the door when the student looked up. "Master?"

He turned. Leonardo watched him for a moment in the flickering candle light. "Thank you," he finally choked. "For... everything."

Splinter smiled and nodded slightly, then turned and walked out of the room. He had already spoken to Donatello, and had spent many hours trying to reach his other sons. He had faith enough in all of them to believe that they would all be together again. But at the same time, he knew the truth. He forced it aside, choosing instead to feel peace. It was, perhaps, the first time in his life that he had consciously chosen to ignore the truth.

He paused in the living room, and looked around. The familiar surroundings flickered in the dim light. These rooms had been his world for so very long, he felt he had almost forgotten the universe outside of them. He smiled, and turned to his room, closing the door behind him.

He set the candle on the bedside table and lay down. For a moment, he stared up at the ceiling. Then he closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, and went to sleep. In a room far away, Michaelangelo watched through teary eyes as the flame died.

***

"Splinter's gone."

Donatello looked up slowly and met his brother's stare. It was immediately evident that he'd been crying already this morning, and Don looked away. "I know," he answered solemnly.

Leonardo's eyes closed and he bowed his head in silence. For a long time, neither of them said anything. "We have to find them."

Don breathed deep. "Rei came out of it last night," he whispered. "She says it armed men busted into the hotel room. They threatened her and Mike went with them without a fight. That's all she remembers."

"Does she remember what time?" Leo choked. His heart wasn't in this conversation, but he knew it was necessary.

"No. She's pretty frantic right now. I gave her a mild sedative to calm her down."

There was another long silence as Leo tried to hold back tears. He kept his head down, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm gonna..." he tried. But he choked on his voice. The moment he opened his mouth, the tears came. 

Donatello looked away. "Yeah," he whispered, knowing how that sentence was supposed to end.

Leonardo walked to his room, closed the door, and cried.

***

Michaelangelo looked the other way, ignoring the discussion among the damned scientists. He wanted to go back to the room without all the monitors. He didn't want to see this anymore. He wanted to talk to Raphael, but he didn't know if he could. It seemed like every time he turned around, they were knocking him out again.

He was confused, but he knew what he heard. Nothing really felt real right now. It was all like a dream, even when he was awake. He didn't think he was ever really fully conscious. He could never tell when he was falling asleep, it just happened. Then he woke up again in another room, or with another person nearby. The world faded in and out of focus and he never really knew what was happening.

His mind played over the words again and again. Splinter was gone. How could he be gone? That wasn't right. He wouldn't leave... For a moment, he could think clearly and he realized that it hadn't been meant like that. Splinter was dead. He'd died. And he knew that. He'd watched it happen, although he had thought it was a dream at the time. 

The coherant thoughts faded and he heard the sentence over and over again in his mind, like a chant. _"Splinter's gone... Splinter's gone."_ Gone. He never got a chance to say good bye. That feeling of unfinished business was familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd felt it before.

He opened his eyes and saw white. The dark room was gone. Where was he now? He turned his head to the side and saw his brother leaned back against the wall, on the other side of a wall of bars. He studied him for a moment, and wondered if he was sleeping. He was so still. Was he slipping in and out like Mikey was? 

"Raphael? Are you awake?"

"Talk in Japanese," Raphael answered after a moment of silence. "That way they won't understand you."

Mike was quiet for a minute. "They're not here."

"They've got cameras and mics in this room. I guarantee it."

Michaelangelo closed his eyes and listened to the chant again until it finally came out his mouth.

Raphael opened his eyes and stared at his brother. "What did you say?"

"He died in his sleep. Last night."

There was a long silence. Mike breathed deep. "I think he knew," he sighed, barely remembering a conversation from a lifetime ago. But no, it was only last night. "He said he... was at peace."

Raphael closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bars. He didn't know what to say. It was too much to think about right now. "Raph, we gotta get outta here." His brother's voice held an edge of fear in it that sent a chill through his body. "We need to get back to Leo and Don. We can't be separated right now."

"I know," he breathed, his mind clouding over again. He felt pain sweep over him, whisking his thoughts away, and he clenched his teeth. He tried not to cry out as the world faded into agonizing nothingness again. For just a moment, it was all a bad dream.

***

A loud cry awoke Michaelangelo. He forced his eyes open, and the bright light burned them. A blurred figure that he assumed was Raphael sat a few feet away from him, on the floor. He was leaning against the wall, but his back was arched. He threw his head back as pain ripped through him, and spread his fingers wide. He could feel the wounds on his hands, the stitches that had replaced his skin. He felt blood run down his back, beneath his shell. The open wounds burned with the stinging chemicals that had been meant to sterilize them. He felt blood pool on the floor underneath him, and involuntary tears streamed from the corners of his eyes. 

The moans were drawn out expletives that alerted Mike of his fury. But the pain was even more evident. Raphael sobbed, and collapsed on the floor, unconscious. Michaelangelo watched him for a moment. His body felt strangely foreign, as if he were in a dream. He could feel something different inside of him. He breathed deep, wondered if he was dreaming, and closed his eyes again. 

He was awake, but not fully alert, when someone walked into the room. He felt like his muscles had been turned to jello, and he didn't even think to try for the door. "One-forty-eight over eighty two."

"He's coming down quick."

"And stablizing again," the woman observed. "Right back to normal. It's just unconscious."

"I wonder how long he'll be out this time."

"I don't know." She was quiet for a moment. "Look at its face, Matthew," she whispered. "Even its bone structure is adapting."

"Maybe it would be a good idea to keep him sedated. Just for the pain."

"You mean _comatose_," she mumbled.

"How long you think it'll take to completely run its course?"

"I don't know. Another month, maybe?"

"Where's the blood coming from?"

"Underneath its shell," she observed. "Its skin is pulling away."

"How's that possible?"

She sighed. "Well actually, I think it's attacking the cellular structure of the shell. Rejecting it, you know? At an incredible rate. It can't produce new skin cells fast enough."

"Can we speed that up?"

"I don't know."

The man sighed. "What percentage of the cells have accepted the change so far?"

"About thirty five." There was a moment of silence. Then the woman spoke again. "What do you think?"

Another pause. "I think we should keep him under."

"Well, I don't think he'd object to that," she mumbled. "Think you and Adam can get him to B?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Michaelangelo felt sick to his stomach. He heard the clicking heels on the floor, coming toward him, and tensed. "You're awake," she observed, kneeling next to him.

He forced his eyes open and stared up at her. She was probably in her mid to late thirties, blonde hair, glasses, hazel eyes. He tried his best to glare at her, but he didn't have the strength. He surrendered, helpless. "What did you do to my brother?" he choked.

"He's fine," she answered sweetly. "And so are you. I just want you to relax. Trust us."

He felt anger flare up inside of him. "Fuck you," he whispered.

"Now, let's not get off to a bad start here. We don't want that, now do we?"

God she _hoped _he didn't want that. The other one sure had. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay?"

"Lab animals don't answer questions," he breathed. "And if we're anything but that, you've got no right to keep us here."

The woman studied him for a moment, then stood up. "Fascinating," she mumbled under her breath.

"What is?" her partner asked.

"The way this one talks. He's using deductive reasoning."

There were a million things Michaelangelo wanted to say, but he couldn't make his mouth work. His eyes slid closed and he surrendered to the darkness. 


	8. Humanity

****

CHAPTER SEVEN

HUMANITY

Um… I need to clarify a few things.

Mistake on our part- That ultrasound didn't turn up anything. There was nothing found, and they returned her to the hotel room. Guess we should've explained that a little better.

Um, this one's a little more of a personal note. If you don't like my "no review, no post" policy, DON'T READ! I won't force you! S mentioned to me that someone was upset by that and I just want to clarify that I don't give a damn. If we're not in it for the glory, what the fuck are we in it for? I certainly don't get paid for this, does anyone else out there? My pay is the reviews, knowing what the readers thought about what I wrote. And if that's too much for you to give me, then don't bother reading my work.

-Danger Incarnate

Breathe in.

He was alive. Wandering in the darkness of nothing, he was still alive.

Breathe out.

He hurt like _hell_. He squinted into the shadows and saw himself, and he reconsidered the thought of waking up. The air felt like hot ash in his lungs. He could feel the blood course through his veins. He was so acutely aware of himself, he felt as if he were not a body at all, but more of a spirit. His skin tingled, and he felt wounds. He felt cold. _Icy _cold on his... back? 

His eyes opened. Bright lights were over him. He tried to move, but he was tied. As he flexed his muscles, he cringed in pain and coughed. He tasted blood, and swallowed it again. Then he looked down at the leather straps around his wrists. The shock almost gave him a heart attack. Instinctively, he jerked away. It took him a moment to realize that he was trying to get away from _himself_.

He stared in shock at his five fingers and pale white skin. It was almost bluish under the flourescent lights. He watched his hand as if it were a serpent ready to strike him. Then, slowly, he clenched his fist. He stared at the space between his fingers and the scars there. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. He looked down at the rest of his body. Oh god...

"You're awake."

The voice came out of nowhere, and scared the crap out of Raphael. His head spun and he looked to see where it had come from. "What the hell did you do to me?" he gasped, barely managing a whisper.

Callihan took her glasses off and set them on the table. "How do you feel?" He wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, so he didn't speak. "Are you having any pain?"

Plenty of it, although he wasn't about to tell _her _that. His muscles were all sore and his lungs hurt. He clenched his teeth in defiance. "What the _fuck_ did you _do_...?" he growled.

"If you're in pain, I can get you some morphine," she smiled.

Oh, great. More drugs. Just what he needed. "Fuck you," he whispered.

She laughed quietly. "I'll take that as a no?" She looked back down at the chart in front of her. "Well, make yourself comfortable. I've got a few tests to run before I can take you back to your room."

***

Four weeks. Leonardo had lost track of the days. He knew he was burned out. He'd just about killed himself trying to find his brothers until Donny had finally warned him that he was about to have a nervous breakdown. It wasn't an exaggeration. He was losing it. Finally, he'd slowed down. He knew he could never really stop. As long as there was a _chance _that they were alive, he couldn't stop looking. 

He took in a breath of thick, polluted air. Had to love this city. Nobody seemed to care anymore what happened to the air they breathed. He'd read something once: that living in some cities was like smoking a pack of cigarettes every day. How could that possibly be a good thing? Chalk one up to man's industrial strength.

He sighed as the thoughts faded and he was once again confronted by painful truth. They were out there somewhere. Were they dead? He had to believe that at least Raph wasn't. He had to remember Splinter's words, and the message he promised to deliver. But Splinter hadn't been able to reach Michaelangelo. Everything inside of him wanted to believe that it was for some other reason than that he was dead. He _couldn't _be dead.

But they had scoured this city. Every back alley, every warehouse and abandoned building, every place where they might have gone... They weren't here. And if they weren't in the city, they could be _anywhere_. They might never be found. Leo shuddered. They were strong. He _knew _they were strong. The only thing he could hope was that they would somehow find their way home on their own.

He sighed as he climbed down the ladder and onto the fire escape. He walked slowly down the steps and jumped to the alley floor, landing crouched down. Instinctively, he looked for signs of movement, but he was alone. He raised the manhole cover and slipped into the sewers silently.

Rei was sitting on the couch, her knees brought up under her chin. She didn't look up as Leo walked in. "Hey," he called quietly. Her eyes shifted to him and he perched on the arm of the nearby chair. "Where's Donny?"

"I don't know," she whispered. 

He studied her for a moment. She'd been crying. He could see the red around her eyes and the dried saline on her cheeks. Everything inside of him wanted to comfort her. He felt that even in all he did, he couldn't reach that part of her that was hurting, and he hated that. He hated being so helpless to aid her pain as much as he hated its presence in himself.

He couldn't bring himself to talk to her about Mike, about the possibility that he might never come home. He knew she'd already realized that, but it was a different story to actually talk about it. He didn't think she was ready. He didn't think _he _was ready. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head mutely in answer to his question. He stood again and walked over to her, then sat down beside her. She turned into him immediately and he held her as she began to cry. "He's not coming back, is he?" she sobbed. "You're not gonna find him."

Suddenly, it didn't matter if they were ready to talk about it. They were going to do it anyway. A few weeks ago, he might have argued with her. Now he remained silent, not sure he wanted to speak of the possibility that she might be right. He ran his hands up and down her back as she cried into his shoulder. "I'm so scared, Leo..."

He brushed his fingers through her hair and she pulled away slightly to look at him. "Don't be scared, Rei," he whispered. "It's okay."

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "It's not okay," she choked. "Leo, it's not okay!"

She threw her arms around his neck and pressed close to him. He could feel her tears run onto his skin and the heat from her body melted into his. He'd never felt so close to someone physically and yet so emotionally alone.

He didn't know how it happened. He didn't know who initiated it or even really why. But he didn't fight it. He didn't really even realize what he was doing as his body figured out how to act and he kissed her deeply, his eyes closed to the world. He could feel her chest rise and fall against his and instinctively he reached up to cup her breast. She closed the kiss before he made contact, and he instead touched her arm.

As his eyes opened, he looked at her and suddenly realized what he'd just done. He could see the same shocked horror written all over her face. "That... was wrong," she whispered.

He took a few staggered breaths. "Yes, it was," he agreed wholeheartedly.

She pulled away from him. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, still dumbfounded by his own actions. "No, it's... not your fault." He turned away, unable to look at her. How on _earth _could he have just done that?

"I should... go to bed."

"Yeah."

Rei swallowed hard and stood up. She left the room without another word, leaving Leo alone, his pulse racing. Shame welled up inside of him and he wanted to crawl inside of himself, somewhere where none of this was real. He brought his knees to his chest and curled into a ball, willing the world to be drowned by his tears.

***

Raphael pounded on the door as hard as he could. "Where the fuck is my brother!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You can't _fucking _do this anymore! It was your bright idea to make us human and now you have to treat us like..." Blood dripped down the door from his knuckles as he hit it once more. "...humans!"

Nothing moved. He held his bloody hand and breathed hard. He felt tears sting his eyes and he leaned against the wall. He slid to the cold floor and curled into a ball, shivering. He wasn't cold; he was pissed off as all hell. And he was scared. For Mikey.

He heard the door open and spun around as Dr. Richardson walked into the room. For once, he wasn't carrying a needle. Raphael glared at him, not bothering to wipe the tears away. He was broken, and he didn't care. "I wanted to talk to you," Richardson said quietly.

"Tell me where my brother is and _then _we'll talk," Raph shot back.

"Raphael, I..."

"Oh, _now _I have a name?" Raph interrupted angrily. "Before I was an animal and _now _I have a name?"

The doctor sighed. "Are you finished?" he asked.

Raphael felt every muscle tense at the patronizing tone. He clenched his teeth and said nothing. Richardson watched him. "I want to explain to you what we're trying to do."

Anger surged through Raph. A week ago, he might have wanted to know. Right now, he only wanted one thing. "I don't _care_ what you were trying to do," he snarled. "Where's my brother?"

"Your brother is fine," Richardson sighed, realizing there was no getting around that question.

"I wanna see him."

The man shook his head. "You're just going to have to trust me."

"_Trust _you?" Raph repeated in disbelief. "I'm ready to fucking _kill you_!"

"That wouldn't be very condusive to either of us in our purpose."

Raphael lowered his head, considering attacking this man. "I _want _my _brother_," he hissed. "_Now_."

Dr. Richardson studied him for a moment, and crossed his arms over his chest. He realized that he was going to get no cooperation until he either sedated him or gave him what he wanted. The first was definately easier, but the look in his eyes made it difficult for Richardson to reach for his tranquilizer gun.

"If I brought him in here," he considered, "what would you do?"

"Make sure he was alive," Raph growled.

"Assuming he is..."

Raphael watched him, wary of this newfound kindness. He didn't trust these people worth a _damn_. He didn't want to think of what they wanted from him now. "Will you leave him alone?" Richardson asked.

"Why don't you just lock me up in the goddamn cage?" Raph shot. "That way you can be sure."

Richardson sighed. "If I'm going to go through that trouble, I'll just leave him where he is."  
Raph's eyes narrowed. "Why am I here?" he demanded. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"To ask you a few, simple questions."

"I'm not answering anything until I see my brother."

"I'll bring him in here."

"Then do it."

Richardson was quiet for a moment. "If you alter in any way the fluids in his IV or how much of them he gets, you could kill him."

Raphael glared at him. "Do you really think I would want to see him this badly so that I could kill him?" he retorted. "I know what your fucking drugs do, Doc. Bring my brother in here now."

***

The blanket underneath him was soaked with blood, and it was pouring from his ears and his nose. His chest was tightly wrapped with blood soaked bandages. An IV in his arm fed him more blood, and another IV held water. Tubes ran into his body and stuck to his skin with suction cups. Raphael stared at him, dumbfounded, as he was rolled into the room on a stretcher. Dr. Richardson returned to Raph. 

"It's not as bad as it looks," Richardson offered.

"I don't know how it _could _be if he's still alive," Raph growled.

"Do you realize," Richardson began, "that you have been changed from one species to another in a matter of six weeks?"

Raphael glared at him. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

The doctor sighed. "Raphael, your body was half-human when we found you," he started. "How did that happen? How did you _become _what you were?"

Raph stared down at the table where a human being that looked nothing like he remembered his brother, was strapped down. "Why is he tied?" he demanded.

"Convulsions," the doctor answered. "We don't want him to fall off."

Good reason. Raphael reconsidered his demand that he be released. "What kind of convulsions?" he asked coldly. He didn't like the sound of that word.

"The same kind that you had," he answered. Raph glanced up at him. "He's doing well, despite how he might look."

They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them daring to speak. "It was some kind of chemical," Raphael mumbled. "We don't know what it was or how it got there or if there's any more of it."

"How it got where?" Richardson questioned. "The sewers?"

"No, the Pyramids in Egypt," Raphael answered coldly.

Dr. Richardson decided not to comment on the sarcasm. He watched as Raphael ran a hand over the still figure's arm. "There's something you should know," Raph whispered.

"What's that?"

He looked up and their eyes met. "If he dies, I'm going to kill every one of you."

The sentence was spoken totally void of emotion. It sent a shiver down Richardson's spine. "I'm doing everything I can to keep him alive and not in pain," he assured him. "He should be fine."

Raphael didn't answer. There was a moment of silence before the door opened and they both turned. It was Dr. Alex. Raphael tensed as their eyes met. "Dr. Richardson, there's a call for you," he informed. Richardson started to the door. "You want me to take that one out of here?" Alex asked as he approached. 

Richardson stopped and looked back at Raphael. Their eyes stayed locked for a moment, then the doctor turned back. "No, it's okay," he mumbled. "I think he'll be fine. Good for the, uh... psychological aspect."

Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't question the order. He shut and locked the door as Richardson walked down the hall. Raphael watched the white wall for a moment, then turned his attention back to Michaelangelo.


	9. Escape

****

CHAPTER EIGHT

ESCAPE

Raphael looked down at his hands. The spaces between his fingers were badly scarred, but they didn't hurt anymore. He imagined that the scars would fade with time. Maybe he'd get lucky and forget this whole thing had ever happened. Maybe he'd forget everything, and be able to lead a normal life. He heard his brother cry out in his sleep and looked slowly to the place where he was lying, strapped down. The memory of hopeful thoughts faded. He knew he could never forget. Those cries would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he knew it.

Michaelangelo arched off the table, and sobbed in a way that led Raph to believe he was more conscious now than he had been for the past few days. They'd kept him sedated, just like they'd done to Raphael. It was for the pain, he guessed. But then again, they hadn't cared too much about pain any other time. He wondered what they would do with them once this "experimental transformation" was a "total success". As far as Raphael knew, they hadn't really begun to run any tests on him as a human. Of course, he had no idea what they might've done while he was unconscious. He shivered at the thought. All his life, he'd been jealous of humanity. But right now, it scared him half to death.

Michaelangelo had started the "treatment" after him, and it only made sense that he would _finish _after him. His own relative health gave Raphael hope that it would all turn out okay. He was still sore, and he could still feel several wounds on his back. But they didn't ooze blood anymore. They were healing fast.

He wanted to think that being human gave him rights, that they couldn't do anything more to him. But he also realized that they were the only ones who knew he was _here_. He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. He was tired and weak. He hadn't been out of this room since he woke up. For a moment, he wondered how Leo and Don were holding up.

Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling. The lights flickered and Raphael's eyes snapped open. The floor was shaking. What was happening? He braced on his hands and knees as the world around him shuddered. The floor shifted and without warning, a large hole appeared a few feet away. Raphael jumped back and watched with wide eyes. He crawled over and looked down into a dark office. The desk rattled as the thunder continued to destroy the building. An earthquake? In New York? He paused as he considered that. He didn't really know what state he was in.

He struggled to his feet, and nearly fell over. For the first time in... how long? he considered escape. It had to have been a few weeks at least. It wasn't like they ever told him what day of the week it was. The rumbling ground wasn't helping, either. He focused all the strength he could find in himself and took a few steps.

The sight of his brother up close took the breath out of his lungs. It always did, and he'd learned that it was better to watch him from afar. At least when he couldn't do anything to help him. But right now, he had to get him out of here or they would both be crushed. 

A loud cracking sound behind him got his attention. He spun and saw the entire floor fall out by the doorway. He turned back to Michaelangelo and yanked the IVs, spilling more blood. He pulled the tubes and the monitors, and shook his brother. "Mikey! Michaelangelo, wake up!"

He wasn't sure if he was expecting a response, but he got none. He checked to make sure he was breathing, then pulled him up.

***

She'd always been taught not to pick up hitchhikers, but these two were the exception to the rule. Mostly because one of them was obviously hurt. The fact that they weren't wearing any clothes was also kind of interesting. She pulled her red pickup off to the side of the road and Raphael looked up. "Are you okay?" she called.

He felt like he was about to die. She was the first person who'd come down this road in the hour and a half he'd been walking. "Yeah," he gasped.

"Get in."

He opened the door and lifted his brother into the bench seat, then moved over as he crawled in next to him. As soon as the door closed, Raphael dropped his head between his knees and coughed hard. "Do you want me to take you to a hospital?" the driver asked. "Or maybe uh, get you some clothes first?"

Raphael almost laughed. Yes, it _had _occurred to him that he had been walking down the side of the road in a trenchcoat and nothing more. He'd gotten it from the office beneath the room. Michaelangelo didn't even have that; he only had bloody bandages. He coughed a few more times and rasped something that the girl didn't understand. "What?"

He looked up. "Manhattan," he coughed. "We need to get to Manhattan."

She laughed. "Manhattan? That's a hell of a drive. Why don't I just take you to the hospital?"

"I'll pay you."

She stared at him, startled by the words. "What?"

"You don't understand," he struggled. "We gotta get home." 

Raphael wanted to go to the hospital, but he also knew that the hospital was the first place they would check. He couldn't take that risk, not knowing what kind of rights they may or may not have now. "Please just take us home," he heaved. "I'll give you anything you want. Please."

She studied him for a moment. She was going in the opposite direction from New York. "Look, I... I'm not even going that way."

He glanced out the windshield. "You can't get through up there anyways," he informed her. "There was an earthquake; the roads are destroyed."

She laughed. "What?" She'd been driving fast, but she couldn't imagine that she'd been too far away to feel the effects of an _earthquake_.

He glared at her. "Turn on the radio, princess," he growled.

She stared at him for a moment, then flicked the radio on. It didn't take her long to find a local news station. "... measuring 6.2 on the richter scale, was centered in a remote area. But the shock was felt as far away as..."

He tuned it out and turned his attention to his brother. If nothing else, he wanted to make sure he was still breathing. He was. He was still alive. "You said it's a long way," he reminded the driver. "How long?"

"Like, two hours at the _very _least, if we didn't hit any traffic and drove at eighty miles an hour."

He looked up. There was a long pause as he watched her. "Please," he whispered.

"I'll take you to the hospital."

Out of nowhere, the passenger produced a knife. She gasped in surprise. "Take us. To Manhattan. _Now_."

***

Michaelangelo coughed and began to pant, squeezing his eyes closed. Raphael studied him. "Mikey?" he asked. Was he waking up? "Mike, you with me?"

Mike whispered something, but Raph couldn't make it out. His breathing came staggered, and he began to shudder. Raph was no doctor, but he could tell that wasn't good. "Michaelangelo?"

"So... cold..." he stammered. He was literally shaking.

Raphael felt his skin. The heat radiating from him nearly burned his hand. He'd never felt a fever so hot. "Mike, open your eyes."

Michaelangelo heard the voice as if it had come from another dimension. He was confused. The only thing he knew right now was that he was cold, and he was dying. He forced his eyes open, but couldn't focus them. He stared at the blurred figure over him, then closed his eyes again. He didn't know who it was and he didn't care. "Cold..." he gasped between panted breaths. He wanted to curl into a ball, but his body felt paralyzed.

"Mikey, you're okay." That voice. "We're gonna get you home. To bed. You'll be warm, you'll be safe."

"He doesn't need a nap; he needs medical attention."

He didn't know that voice. But the other one was Raph. Something inside of him identified it immediately. He coughed. He felt like his lungs were filled with fluid. "Ra..." he tried, but his mouth wouldn't work.

"I'm here."

Michaelangelo stood separated from himself and saw cold and pain swirling around him. Beyond that, the darkness was comforting. It was warm. Why was he fighting it? "Tell... Rei..." he struggled, choking on the words. His whole body was convulsing as he struggled to keep warm. "I... love... her..."

"No," Raphael said strongly. "I won't. You're gonna hold on and you're gonna tell her yourself."

"I can't..."

"You _will_."

"No..."

Raphael turned and put his palms against his brother's burning cheeks. "Listen to me," he hissed, leaning in close. Michaelangelo's body went limp, like a rag doll. "Open your eyes and _listen_."

There was no room for debate. The words were spoken without the slightest hint of sympathy for Mike's condition. Slowly, painfully, he forced his body to obey, and stared into the blazing eyes of his brother. "I am going to take you home and you are going to go to bed. And when you see Rei, she's gonna fuck your brains out and make you feel all better okay?"

A weak smile played across Michaelangelo's lips. Raphael's sense of humor. Surely he knew that sex was the furthest thing from Mike's mind right now. But his thoughts lingered on Rei. He remembered the first time he kissed her, and how unsure he was. How _afraid _he was of anything that felt so good. His eyes closed again slowly.

"Michaelangelo, don't you _dare _let go," Raphael growled. "I do _not _wanna have to tell Rei that you made it this far and then you died on the way home, do you hear me?"

A quiet moan answered him, and Michaelangelo continued to shiver as he slipped away again. Raphael watched him for a moment, then looked up again. They were inside the city, and he recognized the landmarks. "Just pull over here," he ordered.

"Where?"

He pointed to an alley and she turned into it. "You just want me to leave you here in an alley?" she laughed. "You gotta be outta your mind."

Raphael turned to her. "I am," he answered flatly.

"I'm going to call the police, you know."

"Do that."

"Did you try to kill him?"

Raph looked up, shocked at the sudden and unexpected implication. "Lady, for you to ask me that, you are seriously blind."

He opened the door and slid to his feet. "But you tell the cops whatever you want," he mumbled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet, he emptied it of cash and offered it to her. "Oh, and here. For gas." She took it hesitantly and he slipped the wallet back into his pocket. "And thanks."

He lifted the unconscious figure from the seat and turned away. Just like that? He was going to just walk away into the alley? He didn't seem to think that was strange at all. He shut the door before she could protest, and walked into the darkness, carrying his friend. She watched him go, wondering where he was headed, then backed out of the alley into the street. She had to find a phone and call the cops. She didn't want to be implicated in a murder.

Raphael watched her truck vanish, then set his brother down on the alley floor. He lifted the manhole cover, surprised at how heavy it was, and tried once again to wake Michaelangelo up. He got blood on his fingers, and no response. 

He carried him carefully down the ladder and through the familiar tunnels. About a hundred feet from the entrance to the lair, he laid him down. Michaelangelo moaned quietly. _Oh great,_ Raphael thought. Now _he's going to wake up!_

Mike coughed blood and turned his head to the side to let it drain from his mouth. He felt so strange. He opened his eyes and at first saw only darkness. Then he formed the outline of an unfamiliar man. He stared at him for a minute, confused. Where was he?

"Mikey? Mikey, it's okay."

The man was talking to him. That voice was so familiar. He stared at him for a moment. "Raph?" His voice was raspy. It sounded foreign to his ears.

The man smiled faintly. "It's okay, Mike. You're gonna be alright now."

"Where...?"

"Listen to me," he whispered, cutting him off. "I'm gonna go away." He paused for a minute, searching for words. "I don't... want you to tell them. That I'm alive."

Mike was confused. "Why?"

Raphael took his hand. "I just need you to do this for me, Mikey. Please."

"Where'll you go?"

Raph shook his head. "I don't know yet."

Mike's eyes slid closed. "I'll go with you."

"What about Rei?"

Michaelangelo's heart was jolted by the sound of her name. He didn't answer, immediately realizing that Raphael was right. "Hey." He opened his eyes again and Raphael laid a human hand on his forehead. "You're gonna be okay," he promised. There was a long pause. "Tell Leo and Don..." But the words were lost on his lips. Michaelangelo nodded slightly. He knew what his brother meant. 

After another long silence, he stood up, pulling away. "Bye Mikey."

Michaelangelo sighed deeply. He felt like he was caught in a dream, where he didn't care about anything. But something inside of him began to care as Raph turned away from him. "Raphael?"

Raphael turned and locked stared with his brother one last time. Neither one of them spoke for a long time. Then, finally, Michaelangelo took in a long, slow breath. "I love you."

Raphael watched him, and swallowed hard. He nodded, but couldn't speak. He looked away again, picked up a beer can from the floor of the tunnel, and threw it toward the entrance to the lair before he disappeared into the shadows. It only took a few seconds for Leonardo to appear at the door, weapons in hand. He looked around, not sure what he was expecting. He knew that noise didn't belong here. And he could feel someone close by. But that presence was strangely familiar.

A muffled cough set every nerve in his body on end, and he turned to the darkness as Donny appeared beside him. There was someone there. They approached the figure cautiously. He was slumped against the wall of the tunnel, and covered in blood. "Oh my god," Donny whispered, kneeling next to him. "What the hell happened to him?"

"How'd he get down here?" Leonardo wondered out loud, looking for any other sign of life in the surrounding area.

"Leo..."

His eyes widened in shock at the sound of his name. His head spun around and he stared at the man for a long time. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that he was more of a teenage boy. He was instantly caught by his dark eyes. The boy smiled faintly. "Leo... It's me..."

Leonardo's heart leaped into his throat in a confused mix of elation and panicked fear. "Raphael?"

His eyes closed slowly. "No..."

"Mikey," Don realized. He stared for a moment, his jaw dropped. "Oh my god, you're...!"

Michaelangelo exhaled fully and his head lulled to the side. Raphael watched from the shadows as his brothers tried to wake him up again. He could hear their murmured surprise, and made sure to stay out of the way of their darting eyes. As they picked him up, Raphael turned away.

***

"Hey, Mikey, you with us?"

Michaelangelo listened to the sound of his own breathing, trying to steady it. "Yeah..."

"Don't suppose you could tell us what happened?"

"Nnnnnh..."

"I didn't think so."

"He's got a fever," Leo mumbled.

"Yeah, a really high one," Don agreed. "I'm gonna go get my medical supplies. These bandages need to be changed and I want to see just how high his fever is."

"Right."

Donatello left the room. Leo's eyes fell to the still figure on the bed. His breathing was shallow, and his skin was burning, but he was alive. Leonardo didn't need an explanation to tell him what had happened. He could guess. He knew it wasn't any natural circumstances that had turned his brother human. Well, _nearly _human. His coloring was still slightly off. Of course, Leo didn't know if that was the transformation itself, or whatever illness he had. "Leo...?"

"Yeah, Mike?"

"Where's Rei?"

"She went up to buy food," Leo informed. "She should be back in a few minutes."

Michaelangelo didn't answer, but Leo knew he heard. He let the silence continue for a moment. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

Mike breathed as deeply as he could and choked on the air. He was wheezing when his breathing started again. "Like hell..."

Don walked back into the room. "Hey, Mikey, open your mouth."

Michaelangelo accepted the thermometer underneath his tongue without hesitation. He was relaxed here. He knew that they wouldn't do anything to hurt him and he intended to cooperate as much as possible. He felt Donny's hand pressed to his forehead. "Can you tell me where the pain is, Mike?" he asked. "I mean, besides _everywhere_."

_Not with a thermometer in my mouth..._

He thought for a minute and tried to locate the worst of his pain. Donny took the thermometer away. "My stomach..." Mike managed. "Inside... All over there."

"Your lungs hurt too?"

"Not as bad."

Donny stared at him. He was coughing up blood and it wasn't as bad as the pain in his abdomen? He checked the thermometer and cringed. "Hundred three," he mumbled. "That's _way _too high."

"How do we bring it down?" Leo asked. Ordinarily, he probably would've known that. But right now, his mind was a total blank.

"Get me some rags in lukewarm water. Not cold, because I'm sure he feels like he's freezing."

"Okay."

Leonardo left the room. Mike opened his eyes and couldn't help but smile as he saw his brother. "Hi, Donny..." he managed.

Donatello forced a smile in return. "Hey, Mike," he answered. "I gotta cut these bandages off, okay?"

Mike's eyes closed again and he nodded. "Careful..."

"I know. I will."

He cut carefully up the center of Mike's torso and took the bandages aside carefully. He didn't want to rip open the wounds, and there were quite a few of them. Donny wasn't surprised. How they'd managed to get his shell off in the _first _place was beyond him. That must've hurt like hell. He pushed those thoughts aside and ran his fingers over Mike's skin. Maybe they'd killed the nerve endings. "Can you feel that?"

Michaelangelo nodded. Damn. "I've got some painkillers, but they'll make you real drowsy and they might not help at all," he offered. "You want them or no?"

Mike shook his head. He didn't want to sleep anymore. Besides, he knew that whatever the scientists had given him hadn't totally worn off yet. In a few hours, he might be more than willing to be knocked unconscious again.

Leonardo walked back into the room and placed a washcloth on Mike's forehead. "I'm gonna put some pressure on your ribs to see if they're broken, okay?" Don informed. "Tell me if it gets too much, okay?"

"Mmm hmm..."

Don tried to work around the wounds to feel along the ribs. He was surprised to see that none of them were broken. That eliminated the possibility of a punctured lung, and that was a good thing. But then why was he coughing blood? Donatello stood back and considered that for a moment.

"Hey, Mike?"

"Mmm?"

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain you've ever experienced, how bad is the pain in your lungs?"

Mike thought about that for a while. "Seven."

"What about the pain in your abdomen?"

"Ten."

Don sighed. "Okay. Let me get a blood sample from you and I'll see what it can tell me. I'm gonna try and get you some more powerful painkillers available and possibly a blood infusion. You look like you've lost a lot of it, and I'd do it right now except I'm not real sure what your blood type is. Leo or I could've donated before, but I'm not real sure if that changed too. I'm thinking it probably did."

"Whatever Donny..." Mike exhaled, relaxing as he placed his life in his brother's hands without reservation or fear. "Just... do what ya gotta... do... I trust you."

Donatello smiled as he pulled the sterile wrapping off of a hypodermic needle. "Thanks for the vote of confidence there, bro."

Mike forced a weak smile in return. "Anytime."

Leo watched as Don drew blood from Mike's hand. He could even _get _to the veins in his arm, with all the bruises. "Hey Mikey?" he asked after Don pulled the needle back.

"Mmm?"

"Where's Raphael?"

Donatello paused and turned to him. He'd thought of that, but he hadn't asked yet. He was quite interested in the response. Michaelangelo breathed steadily and considered his words carefully. "He's..." he started. But he paused. _"I don't... want you to tell them. That I'm alive."_ Why had he said that? And did it really matter? He coughed hard, choking on blood, and tried to think of something to say.

"Mikey?"

He took in a slow breath. "He... wanted me to tell you," he whispered. "He... loves you guys."

Leonardo's eyes closed slowly as the words sank in. He'd been half-expecting them, but it didn't make them any easier to hear. 

"Hey, I'm home." He snapped out of his trance as the front door closed hard. Rei. He darted out of the room and met her in the living room. She stared at him. "Leo?" she questioned, suspicious. "What's going on? Why are you in my room?"

For a moment, Leo could only stare at her. She set the bag of groceries on the back of the couch and held them steady as she watched him. "Is he here?" she whispered, her heart skipping a beat.

Leonardo swallowed hard, and nodded slightly. "Oh god!"

She darted toward the bedroom and he caught her arms. "Rei, wait..." he protested. "There's... something you need to know."

Her breathing stopped. Fear filled her. For a long time, neither of them could find words. "Is he dead?" she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper. 

He shook his head. "No, he... He's been with scientists."

She gasped. "Oh no!"

"He's alive but... he's different. And he's really sick. I just... want you to be prepared."

She closed her eyes and envisioned the worst possible scenario she could, then nodded. She was prepared for anything. Leo stepped aside and followed her into the room. She felt tears burn her eyes as she saw him. Or at least, what _used _to be him. He didn't look anything like Michaelangelo, or how she would have pictured him as a human. His hair was just beginning to grow in, but it was patchy. He was mostly bald. His skin was somewhere between a pale white and an olive green. He had wounds all over his naked torso. Rei covered her mouth with her hand, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Donatello stepped aside and Rei approached the side of the bed. Mike's eyes opened slowly and he smiled as he saw her. "Rei..."

"Oh god..." She sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her hand to the side of his face. "Mikey?"

His eyes closed again, and he breathed slowly. "Missed you..."

Her vision blurred with tears. Donny rested a hand on her shoulder, then left the room. Leo remained at the door, still and silent. Mike turned his head slowly and kissed her palm. He used what little strength he could manage to pull her to him. She didn't fight him, still too astonished to think of such a thing, and his lips brushed hers, kissing her lightly. She pulled back, startled as she realized what he'd done. She felt uneasy, and unsure if she could even believe...

He opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "You... kiss by the book."

Her heart broke.


	10. Not Letting Go

****

CHAPTER NINE

NOT LETTING GO

Patricia Callihan stepped over the remains of the wall. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. Less than twenty-four hours ago, they had been on the verge of the greatest discovery of all time. Now all of their research had come to nothing. It lay in piles at her feet. The earthquake had totally destroyed the building. There wasn't much left to save. Had it struck a few hundred miles in any direction, the casualties would have been off the charts.

She picked up the shattered remains of a microscope and tossed it aside. Her whole life she'd worked for something big, something like those goddamn mutant freaks. She'd been so close she could _taste _the success. Why now? Why not a month from now, when the results were in, and the success could be shouted from the mountain tops?

She sighed. They'd have to start all over again. Well, not _totally _from scratch. They already knew that the mutants weren't susceptible to disease, they didn't have to run those tests again. And at least they knew where to find the other two. Maybe they'd be able to find the bodies of the ones they had.

She climbed into the tech room and looked at the screens. Most of them were shattered. But they still had power, and one of them actually displayed a picture. Callihan squinted at the monitor as it flickered and went out. She almost thought she had seen... But it couldn't be...

She found the controls and tried to move the picture over to the larger screen, but the panel was damaged beyond repair. One of the speakers still worked. She could hear the voices faintly. She tripped over ceiling panels on her way to the board and cranked up the volume on the mic. "I think... he's bleeding internally."

"What does that mean?"

Donatello looked up slowly. "It means... there's nothing I can do for him."

Leo stared in shock. "What?"

"That can't be," Rei protested. "You're wrong. It's... something else."

Don sighed. "You can take him to... the hospital. He looks human enough. I don't think they'd refuse him because he's obviously dying."

"And they can fix it, right?" Rei choked.

Donatello raised his eyes to hers. The pain silenced him for a moment. "They can give him more powerful drugs for the pain."

"And they can stop the bleeding," she added, her voice pleading.

He shook his head slightly, his eyes sliding closed. "No, Rei," he breathed.

"No, you're wrong," she protested. "Don't tell me that." The anger hit her with a force so sudden it startled even Donatello, and he'd been expecting it. "Don't _fucking _tell me that!" He closed his eyes slowly. "You're _wrong_, damn it! You're fucking _wrong_! You _have _to be wrong! I can't...!"

She gasped a few breaths of air, and turned away. She nearly collapsed into Leonardo, sobbing into his neck. He held her, not sure what else to do. The words hadn't totally sunk in yet. He felt like he was dreaming. He couldn't be hearing this right.

"I'm so..."

Leo looked up and waited for his brother to finish the sentence. Donatello closed his eyes as his vision was blurred by tears, and he hung his head. "I'm so sorry," he finally managed.

Callihan listened to the quiet conversation. She couldn't make it all out, but she'd caught most of it. They had to be talking about the second mutant. Had it actually _lived _through the earthquake? How had it gotten all the way back to New York? Was the other one still alive, too? A spark of hope ignited in her. If they could find it, they wouldn't have to start the process over again...

The pain came totally without warning. It sliced across her arm and smashed into the one remaining monitor, spraying blood. She screamed and spun instinctively, but not before another one of the unidentified weapons embedded in her shoulderblade.

"You!" she gasped as she stared at the familiar face.

He stood a few feet behind her, his weight on one bent leg, his arm up next to his head. Between his fingers was a throwing star. She'd seen them before, on movies. "What do you want?" she demanded.

She began to feel dizzy as she waited for him to respond. "You know, I dipped these _shurieken _in something before I came here," he informed her, his voice cold. "Maybe it was a poison. One that's going to destroy all of your organs one at a time and let you die a slow and painful death." Pain stabbed through her body and her eyes grew wide as she registered his words. "On the other hand..."

He extended his arm and she suddenly realized that she was paralyzed. Her body wouldn't move. She watched as several more of the weapons sliced through the air and embedded in her chest. She would've cried out if she could have made a sound. But her vocal chords were frozen. Her eyes remained wide as terror swept over her. He stepped closer to her. Fire burned in his eyes and he watched her closely. "...maybe it's just water," he hissed.

Pain stole the breath from her lungs and she realized that she was dead. He never took his eyes off of hers, even as she collapsed to the ground. He looked up at the broken monitors, and then to the speakers. 

"How long?" Leonardo. 

His other brother took a deep breath. "It's hard to say," he whispered. "They'll be able to tell you better at the hospital."

Leo stared at Donatello. He knew it wasn't a lie, but he also knew that Don had more information to offer than that. "How. Long," he demanded coldly. 

Donny looked up. He wasn't sure how wise it was to throw all this at Leo, all at once. But he knew his brother, and he knew he wouldn't stop until he knew everything. "Maybe a few days," he offered, watching Leo's reaction. He looked as if he'd just been hit by his best friend, but he handled it. "Maybe hours," Don finished reluctantly. "I don't really know." He looked down. "If he falls asleep again, he might not wake up."

Raphael closed his eyes and bowed his head. He felt no emotion. That had all been spent long ago. Now, it was just business, doing what needed to be done. He looked down at the lifeless body on the floor, then grabbed another _shurieken _from his belt. He flicked his wrist and the weapon embedded in the speaker, destroying the last connection between the former building and his former home.

***

"I'm gonna take you to the hospital and they can get their doctors to look at you. It's against the law to turn away somebody with life threatening injuries whether or not they..."

"No."

She stopped pacing and turned to him. "No?" she demanded. "What the hell do you mean, no?"

"I'm... not going."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Like _hell _you're not going!"

"They can't do anything."

Anger boiled inside of her. "You don't _know _that!" she yelled. "Don doesn't know that and he had no right to say something like that to you!" She realized that somewhere in there he'd whispered her name. "What?"

His eyes opened and met hers. "I can feel it, Rei-chan..."

She stared at him for a long time, then shook her head, not wanting to believe him. "No."

"Rei... I can't make it to the..."

"I'll helpyou!"

His eyes closed and he tried to take a deeper breath. It ended in pain and he coughed blood. "Rei, please," he gasped as he lay back on the pillow again. "I don't want to go."

She felt tears streaming down her cheeks again, and she fought to control them. She knelt next to the bed. "Why, Mikey?" she pleaded, choking on her own voice. "Why won't you let them at least _try_? Donny could be wrong."

"I want to stay here," he whispered faintly. "My brothers can't go to the hospital and... I want them nearby."

She bowed her head and let the tears come. This had to be a bad dream. For a long time, she didn't move. Then, finally, she looked up. "Is there anything... I can do for you?"

His eyes closed and he smiled faintly. "Give me your hand," he whispered.

She raised her hand and rested it on the side of the bed. He slipped his fingers into hers. Five fingers, separated by stitches. It felt so strange to her. She held his hand and pressed it to the side of her face, covering it in saline tears. "I love you, Mikey," she whispered.

He smiled. "I love you too, angel."

"I'm so scared."

He drew in a slow breath. "Don't be scared," he breathed. "It'll be okay."

"How?" she choked. "I don't think I can live without you."

His eyes opened again and he watched her lay her head on the edge of the bed next to their hands. "I love you... Rei-chan."

She sobbed quietly and he squeezed her hand. "Don't let go, okay?" he pleaded, trying to hide the fear he himself felt.

"I won't," she promised.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, slipping into the darkness.

***

Raymond Alex stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room, still in shock. The earthquake had rattled his home badly. Several houses nearby had been nearly destroyed by the aftershocks. What was even more alarming was the the epicenter was so nearby to the research center.

Richardson had been there, when it fell apart. He managed to get out in one piece, but the experiments, he was sure, had been crushed. All of their research over the past two months was suddenly gone. If only it had been a week later...

The sound of breaking glass jolted him awake. Beside him, Tricia's eyes opened. "Ray?"

He sat up and stared into the darkness. "Shh!"

Nothing moved in the stillness. Then, out of nowhere, the blackness moved. He scrambled back against the headboard. "Christ, what the fuck are you!" he cried.

The figure was all in black, covered head to toe. All he could see were the whites of his eyes. "Raphael," the figure answered quietly. "And you have a debt to pay."

Alex's eyes widened. "Holy shit..."

"Yes," Raphael agreed. "But before I deal with you, you're gonna tell me where Adam Travinski lives."

"Like hell I am," Alex chuckled nervously, reaching slowly under the mattress for his gun. Raphael noticed it, but he didn't stop him. 

"If you want even a _chance _at living, you're gonna talk now."

The man glared at the intruder. "I'm not tellin' you nothin'," he whispered. "Guess you're just gonna have to kill me."

"Fine," Raphael answered, his voice emotionless.

He dodged the bullet that was fired at him and it embedded in the wall. Before Alex even had a chance to realize he'd missed, Raphael was on top of him. Tricia screamed. Raphael struck a nerve cluster on the inside of his wrist and the gun dropped involuntarily. Raphael had it in his hand and reaimed in the space of a second.

"You'll tell me where he lives or I'll kill her and _then _I'll kill you," Raph growled.

Raymond's eyes widened as he realized that the gun wasn't pointed at him. "You wouldn't kill her," he tried. But even he could hear his voice tremble.

"You killed my brother, Doctor," Raphael reminded him. "Why wouldn't I kill your girlfriend? I'm just an animal remember? It's in my nature."

Alex swallowed hard as he began to get very nervous. "Look, man, Adam's _dead_," he choked. "He died in the fucking quake."

Raphael's eyes narrowed as he studied the man's expression. He saw total fear there, and read it like a book. He wasn't lying. "How do you know?" he demanded.

"It was on the fucking news. If you don't believe me, you can go ahead and go to his apartment. Or what's left of it. He lived in the ones on second street," he choked.

"_Which _apartment?"

"Three, uh... Three thirteen."

Raphael stared at him coldly. "Thank you."

He reaimed the gun, and pulled the trigger.

***

The apartment was collapsed. Raphael stood and watched as police climbed over the wreckage. "Excuse me," he called to one of them. He looked up. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Have you released victims' names yet?"

The officer pointed to a coworker standing in front of a car. "She's the one you'd need to talk to."

"Okay, thanks," Raph mumbled.

He walked over to the woman and she looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine. Adam Travinski? Someone told me they had his name on the news."

The woman looked down at her list. Her face was etched with sympathy as she looked back up. "Yes, it was," she informed him. "I'm sorry."

Raphael forced a thin smile. "It's okay," he informed coldly. "Thank you."

Without another word, he turned and walked away. His hands felt around in the jacket pocket and he pulled out the wallet he'd found earlier. He knew whose it was from the driver's license. The address of his final stop was in his hand, even without Travinski's help.

***

"Oh, cookies!"

"You leave those alone!" Gina laughed. "Those are for Vanessa to take to school tomorrow."

"Are you gonna make some for us?" Rick asked pleadingly.

"I'll think about it," Gina answered. "_If _you go to bed good."

The boy disappeared quickly. "G'night Mom!"

She laughed to herself as she slid the sheet back into the oven. The back door opened and she turned to see who it was. Had Matthew slipped by her unnoticed? She thought he'd gone to bed. She certainly couldn't blame him. It had probably been one of the worst days of his life. He'd raced home to make sure she and kids were okay, and didn't talk of anything else. But she knew he was troubled. If that earthquake had struck near the lab, their reasearch was probably totally ruined.

"Matthew? Is that you?"

She stared for a minute to see who walked into the room, then turned back to the bowl of cookie dough on the counter. She must be hearing things.

It took about a tenth of a second for her to find herself turned around, bent back over the counter, and looking into the dark eyes of a black figure. All she could see were the whites of his eyes. But she could feel a cold blade pressed to her throat, and it spoke volumes. "I don't wanna hurt you," he growled. "Just call your husband."

She felt like the air had been squeezed from her lungs. It took her a moment to register his words. She knew immediately that if she complied, he would kill him. But what if she didn't? Would he just kill her too? She didn't have a chance to think that through totally before four-year-old Vanessa walked into the room. The little girl screamed at the top of her lungs, ending any hesitation that might have been had.

Raphael was off of the woman in an instant and behind the screaming child. He placed a gloved hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him, but couldn't manage through the glove. It took about ten seconds for Matthew Richardson to appear in the doorway to the kitchen. Before he even registered what he was seeing, he was on his back on the hard tile floor, a kitchen knife pressed to his throat. Vanessa ran to her mother, who held her and watched with wide, terrified eyes as the black creature spoke to her husband.

"Do you know who I am?" he growled.

"You're Raphael," he whispered, fear surging through him. That wasn't a guess. He knew immediately who he was, and why he was here. Every threat that his ears had taken in came rushing back all at once, and he knew he was going to die. 

"Do you realize that when you die," Raphael growled, "all of your experiments end right now. All the people you might hurt."

Richardson trembled noticeably. He wasn't afraid to die. But not like this. Not in front of his wife and youngest daughter. "Please..." he begged. "It's not like that."

"Please... Mister..." Raphael's eyes were unwillingly drawn to the child in the room, pressing close to her mother. "Please don't hurt my Daddy."

Raphael looked back down at the man, unmoved by the plea. "Or maybe I should just kill your family."

Tears filled the man's eyes. "No," he begged. "Please. Do what you want to me. But leave them out of it. They're not to blame."

Raphael turned to the woman and her child. "Leave," he ordered.

"No," the man's wife protested. "I won't."

Raphael's eyes narrowed into slits. "Leave _now_," he growled. "I won't tell you again."

She gasped a few breaths of air. "Gina, please leave," Matthew whispered. "Please. I love you."

Tears streamed down her face as the turned and ran from the room, pulling her child with her. Raphael watched them go, then looked back down at the man. It would take the police a few minutes to get here. He had all the time in the world. 

"You destroyed my family," he rasped. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't destroy yours."

Richardson's eyes closed and he didn't answer. His mind played over all the things he wanted to remember in the last few minutes of his life. He watched them run like a movie on the backs of his eyelids. Raphael breathed deep. For the first time since he'd left Michaelangelo's side, he began to feel. The little girl's face flashed in his mind, and he considered the thought of leaving her without a father. For the first time, he considered the other people who might be affected by this spilled blood. 

It wasn't that he didn't _realize _what he was doing. He was fully aware of it. This was justice, and perhaps also protecting Leo and Don. It wasn't about anger, or his threats. It was about doing what needed to be done. If he didn't do it, no one else would. No one else even knew what they had done. No one would ever know. He was the only one who _could _avenge his brother.

_"If I brought him in here, what would you do?"_

For the first time, Raphael was forced to pause. Raising a hand against Richardson felt different, somehow. He couldn't explain it. Somehow it felt like... murder. He considered that for a moment. There was still no emotion; he was totally in control. He could kill this man right now, and he knew he wouldn't look back. But it _would _be murder. He knew it would. He could feel the difference deep inside of him. Was it worth it? His blood ran ice cold in his veins when it was necessary, but something felt so different about this man. It would not be difficult... But it would be _wrong_.

Richardson's eyes opened in surprise as Raphael stood slowly and set the knife on the counter. They stared at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, then Raphael turned and walked away.

***

Rei's looked up as she felt Michaelangelo's grip tighten just slightly. His eyes fluttered open. "Mikey?" she whispered.

He smiled faintly. "Rei. What're you...?"

The sentence ended with a quiet moan and his eyes closed again. She brushed his hair back and caressed the side of his face. He was so pale, and so thin, and so unlike she remembered him. "How do you feel?" she questioned.

He cringed and moaned again. She raised their hands to his lips and kissed his cold, clammy skin. "Are you in much pain?"

He felt like fire was ravishing his body, but he knew he couldn't tell her that. She'd just cry and worry and be hurt even more by every minute of his pain. "I... love you," he managed, barely audible to his own ears.

But she heard him. She bowed her head and pressed their hands to the side of her face. "I love you too, Mikey," she breathed back. "And I'll stay with you. I won't let you go."

He took a few painful breaths and turned his head to rest on the cool pillow. "Rei?"

"Yeah?"

"I had a dream... And you... had a... little girl."

Rei studied him closely. His words struck her and she watched him, not sure what to say. His eyes opened and he panted for a moment. "If you do... I want you... to name her Mica. Please..."

Rei was dumbfounded for a moment. She hadn't even considered that. How could he say something like that? "I will," she finally managed.

He moaned slightly, and cringed at some unknown pain. She felt her heart break, but knew she couldn't do a thing for him. "I'm so sorry, Mikey," she sighed, a single tear overstepping its boundaries and trickling down her cheek. "I would give anything to take your place."

"Don't talk like that," he breathed. He forced his eyes open. The fire grew. It would've made his body go rigid if his muscles were still able to react. Suddenly, he knew. For just a moment, he felt fear stab through him. 

He gave a half-hearted sob, eyes closing involuntarily. _No! Not yet!_

"Rei..."

He felt the tears trickle from the corners of his eyes. It was as if he could _feel _his life slipping through his fingers. The back of his hand was pressed to the side of Rei's face. It remained warm while the rest of his body grew cold, the icy wave moving up from the soles of his feet. He clenched her hand, not ready to let go yet. There were still things he had to say.

_Michaelangelo..._

He caught his breath at the intense pain as it grew. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could and clenched his teeth. _Michaelangelo, let go. It is alright..._

The pain subsided as he listened to the words. It was as if they were audible. And perhaps they were. He could hear another voice somewhere, and he knew it was Rei, but he couldn't understand her. He opened his eyes and saw the world blur around him.

_I'm afraid,_ he protested.

A soothing calm washed over him. _Do not be afraid, my son... Trust me..._

"Michaelangelo?" Rei whispered, panic striking her all at once as his body relaxed.

His eyes opened and for just an instant, they danced with the life and excitement that she had come to know so well. She remembered all at once all of the reasons why she loved him, all at once. "Don't be afraid," he whispered as a smile crossed his lips. "It's okay. I love you."

"Mikey, no!" she gasped, realizing what was happening. She felt helpless.

He drew in a deep breath and cringed at the pain. He was shaking as she brought her lips to his. She could taste the blood on his lips and the pain in his soul. She kissed him deeply, clinging to him. _Not yet!_ she pleaded silently. _Don't leave me, Mikey! God, no!_

He tensed beneath her, and then relaxed. She felt the life drain from him and her soul mourned it loudly. His hand went limp in hers... and he exhaled his final breath into her lungs.

_Thus with a kiss I die..._

END PART ONE


	11. A New Life

****

PART TWO

CHAPTER TEN

A NEW LIFE

Ryan stared down at the pavement underneath him as he paced along the side of the restaurant. "_Who's _gonna kill Donny?" he demanded.

"Dr. Richardson and associates, I presume," she answered emotionlessly.

He turned and hit the brick wall. "_Fuck_!"

"Yeah, that's about what I said," she added.

He turned to her. "Look, I _can't _help you."

The girl glared at him. "If you can't, then who can?" she challenged.

"No one can," he agreed, turning away. "Those guys are fucking vultures; there's nothing I can do. And I'm sorry. But it's _not _my problem."

"Just because you choose to turn your back on your family doesn't mean you don't _have _a responsibility to them; it just means you're _neglecting _it."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he shot at her.

"You're the only hope he _has_, Raphael."

He spun around to face her, teeth clenched in anger. "I _can't_ _help _you!" he growled.

"You mean you _won't_," she shot back. "Why not? His life really means that little to you?"

"Ever hear the term 'old wounds'?"

"Ever hear the term 'scientists'?"

He looked away as people walked by and stared. This was not the place to be talking about top secret government experiments gone bad. He could walk away now. Part of him really wanted to. Part of him _knew _that if he took her home, he'd be on his way across the country in the morning. But his conscience wouldn't let him turn his back on her. She hitchhiked _across _the _country_ to find him, and god only knew how she'd pulled it off. It wasn't like he'd made himself easy to look up in the phone book.

"Fine," he whispered. "You wanna talk? Let's go to my apartment and we'll talk. But I'll tell you right now, there's no way in hell I'm going back to New York with you."

***

She stood at the window and looked down at the street below. "Alright, here's the deal," she mumbled, taking the sucker out of her mouth so she could talk. "I don't like you and you don't like me. But we have a mutual interest in keeping Donatello alive." She turned and locked eyes with him. "So let's try and work together, shall we?"

"This is _not _my problem," he answered coldly.

"I'm _making _it your problem, Raphael-san."

"Will you stop callin' me that!" he shot at her.

"It's your _name_, isn't it?"

"My name is Ryan."

"Why?"

"Why _what_?"

"Why that name?"

"Why's it any of your _business_?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," she stated simply. "Don't tell me."

He glared at her. Something about the way she said that put him on guard. "Who _are _you?" he demanded.

"I'm the daughter Leonardo-sensei never knew he had," she shot back. "That good enough for you?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Shit, you gotta be kidding me." 

He considered that for a moment. She wasn't older than fourteen, but there was no way she was younger than twelve. Did Leo actually hook up? And so soon after Mike's death? Somehow, he found that hard to believe. Another thought struck him as he considered her words from earlier. "You said your father was dead."

She stared out the window, her back to him. "I know what I said," she replied quietly.

He closed his eyes slowly. Grief he hadn't been expecting flooded through him. Damn it. If Leo was dead, Donny was the only one left. "How did he die?" he managed after a long silence.

"In the name of science," she answered quietly. 

Ryan clenched his teeth. "Shit!"

"And they took Donny."

"How long ago?"

"Two weeks."

Ryan flopped down on the couch. "Forget it," he told her. "He's gone. There's nothing you can do if they've had him that long."

"_You _lived," she reminded him.

"Yes," he mumbled, his hand over his mouth. "I did. And I shouldn't have."

"Why did you do it?"

He glanced up at her, confused. "Do what?"

"Leave New York."

His look hardened. "None of your business."

"You _abandoned _us, Raphael," she said coldly. "How is that _not _my business? Your decisions affected my entire life. _And _my father's. You managed to bring his life to a screeching _halt_."

He stared at her in disbelief. "You tryin' to blame me for Leo's death?" he shot.

"Did I _say_ that?"

"You sure as hell _implied _it."

"There's a big difference between saying and implying."

"You didn't answer my question," he growled.

She studied him for a moment. "You didn't answer _mine_."

He hesitated. "It's called a fresh start," he informed her. "I did everything I could for them, and then I left."

"Killing those scientists was all that you could do?"

"So is that how you knew I was alive?"

"No, that was incidental."

"So how did you know?"

She stared at him. "My _sensei _told me."

"And that would be who? Leo or Don?"

"I didn't say it was either one of them."

That opened up a whole new door of questions that Raph wasn't sure he wanted answered. Sharon didn't give him a chance to ask. "Look, all of this is irrelevent," she mumbled. "It doesn't really matter who's guilty of what and why they did it. I don't really care about why you walked out on us. I care about getting Donatello back. Alive. That's the only thing that matters to me right now."

"Sharon, I _can't_."

"Don't you think you owe it to him to at least _try_?"

Ryan couldn't answer that. He knew he did, but to admit that to her would be suicide. "I'm not asking you to _fix _it, I'm asking you to _try_. Because _maybe _there's something you can do, and you're his only hope right now."

He didn't answer. The girl felt tears burn her eyes as she stared at him. He wouldn't even look her in the eye. Bitter hurt and anger welled up inside of her as she realized that she wasn't getting through to him. "Forget it," she growled, turning toward the door. "_Sensei_ was right. You don't give a _damn _about your honor."

She threw the door open and slammed it behind her, then started down the hall. Ryan leaned forward against the wall, his forehead on his arm. She was gonna get herself killed, hitchhiking all the way back to New York. It was a wonder she made it all the way out here without getting raped. And what the hell would she do when she got back there, anyway? She was only fourteen. It wasn't like she could make it on her own. He hit the wall. Damn it, why _now_?

He threw the door open and stepped out into the hallway. "Sharon, wait."

She stopped walking, but didn't turn around. He sighed. "You've got nowhere to go," he reminded her. "If Don's gone, there's no reason for you to go back to Manhattan. So why don't you stay here?"

She turned slowly and glared at him with ice cold eyes. "Because I'm not like you, Raph," she answered. "I spent my whole life with that man. Growing up in his house, learning from him. There was _never _a time that I needed him and he wasn't there for me. And in his time of need, I'm gonna be there for him whether or not it kills me to do so."

He let her words sink in for a moment, and bowed his head, running over all the possible scenarios. He knew it was probably pointless to even try, but he had a hell of a lot more chance of surviving it than she did. At least he was fully human. He doubted they'd try to do anything more to him. But going back meant facing things that he had tried so hard to forget. And he'd nearly succeeded. He felt as if he were being forced to weigh his life against hers.

He looked up slowly and their eyes met again. "Fine," he said quietly. "I'll go with you. Under one condition."

"What's that?"

"If I try, and there's nothing I can do, you're either going to go to social services or you're going to come back here and live with me."

"What's the point of that?" she questioned.

"I'm not going to leave you to live alone in the sewers."

She nodded once. "Then I promise I won't live alone in the sewers."

"And you're not gonna go run off with a boyfriend or something, you got that?" he added, noticing how she changed those words around before she agreed.

She shook her head. "No boyfriend, no friends," she agreed. "Only with you or with someone you know and trust."

"I don't trust anyone," he clarified.

She nodded. "Which is exactly my point."

***

"Hey."

She took a deep breath and tried to come alive. "Mmmnnn?"

"Get up. We're leaving in twenty minutes whether or not you're dressed."

She forced her eyes open and saw a dark room. It took her a minute to remember where she was. Reaching up on the back of the couch, she grabbed onto it weakly and pulled herself up to look into the kitchen. Ryan flicked the light on and she was momentarily blinded. "What time is it?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Quarter to four," he answered, disinterestedly staring into the fridge. He didn't feel like eating.

She moaned. "You wanna leave _now_?"

"No, I wanna leave in nineteen minutes. So if you got somethin' to do, I suggest you get up and do it."

She yawned and swung her feet down to the carpeted floor. "Can you drive?" he called.

"I don't have a license," she answered.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know what you asked."

He shut the fridge and turned to look at the back of her head. "Can you drive or can't you?"

"I know how."

"Thank you. That's all I wanted to know."

He studied her for a moment as she stood up. Her hair stopped where it brushed her bare shoulders, and she held the blanket around her, halfway down her arms. Had she slept naked on his couch? 

She turned and smiled when she saw the dumbfounded look on his face. "Does it bother you?" she asked.

He looked over her again. At least she didn't wear her gloves to bed. Didn't wear her makeup either. Her natural skin color was evident now, and it was a light, pale green. Her eyes were slanted oddly, though she was still quite beautiful, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed that before. 

"Does what bother me?" he questioned.

"Anything," she grinned.

"A lot of things bother me," he answered. "But you're not one of them."

She smiled. "I took a shower last night," she explained. "And I've been wearing the same clothes for a week now so they were pretty gross."

He nodded. "Understandable."

"Do you have any clothes I can wear or should I put mine back on?"

He considered that for a moment. "No, uh... don't do that. I'll find something."

He disappeared and she wrapped the thin blanket around her like a towel, then lifted it off the floor as she walked to the bathroom. She splashed water in her face and ran her fingers through her hair to brush it out. "It's not exactly in style." The voice behind her made her turn. "But it's better than the blanket."

She caught a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt as he threw them at her. "Thanks."

He shut the door and she dressed quickly.


	12. Raphael

****

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RAPHAEL

The surroundings were eerily familiar. He remembered his way around these sewers, as if he'd just been here yesterday. It was strange to think that it had been fifteen years since he'd been underground like this.

He paused as he neared the entrance to the lair, suddenly hit with a thousand memories. Sharon was a few steps behind him, but she caught up quickly. "You okay?" He swallowed hard and nodded. "You want me to go first?" she smiled, teasingly.

He turned and glared at her, then took a few more steps toward the door, his feet sloshing loudly in the runoff water from the last rain. Actually, it was probably melted snow at this time of year. It was _freezing_. He reached the door and pushed it open, not allowing himself a moment of hesitation. 

Instantly, he was attacked. He jumped back, shielding himself instinctively. "Jesus, Leo!"

The words came out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. Sharon ran up and stepped between the two of them. "_Sensei_, stop!" she cried. "It's okay!"

It took a few seconds for Ryan to realize what he'd said. His eyes opened wide and he looked up, past Sharon. "Leonardo?"

Leo lowered his weapons slightly and Sharon stepped aside. For a moment, he studied the intruder. Dark hair, green eyes, tall. Unfamiliar. Ryan stared back, dumbfounded. "Sharon told me you were dead," he finally managed.

"I never said that," the girl protested.

"What do you _mean _you never said that!" Ryan cried.

"I never said Leo-sama was my father."

Ryan stared at her. If she wasn't Leo's daughter, and her father was dead... "Michaelangelo..." he whispered, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. How was that possible? They had done an ultrasound on her; they would've known. Unless she had just _gotten _pregnant. Raphael's eyes closed as he realized what a part of him had been screaming from the beginning.

For Leo, the name of his brother brought painful recognition. Instantly, he knew who he was facing. Anger flooded him, a _tsunami_ that he couldn't control or even prepare himself for. Ryan spun to Sharon. "You _did _say he was your father," he snapped. "I remember it."

"The daughter he didn't know he had," she corrected. That sentence itself wasn't a lie. Her entire life, she'd been hearing that phrase. It was as if Leo suddenly had a daughter that he didn't realize he'd ever brought into the world. It burned him, she knew. Hurt deep inside of him, even though she knew he'd never admit it.

"You lied," he accused.

"Was Splinter _your _father?" she challenged.

Ryan opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. Leo was just beginning to think coherent thoughts again. He turned to the girl. "You went to _Las Vegas_?" he cried, staring in disbelief at his surrogate daughter. "How the _hell _did you get there?"

She lowered her eyes. "I hitched," she admitted.

"You _hitchhiked _across the _country_?" he yelled. She didn't answer. He felt fury building up inside of him. "Go to your room; I'll deal with you later."

She went gladly. She didn't want to get in the way of their discussion anyway. Leonardo turned to the trespasser, his weapons still in hand, and glared at him. "Why are you here?" he demanded.

It took Raphael a minute to make sense of the words. He hadn't spoken Japanese in... three years? And even then, it wasn't in a real discussion. Only with a customer at the bar. "Because you need help," he managed, not sure he was getting all the words right.

"Oh, I need help now?" Leo asked sarcastically. "Funny, that never seemed to bother you _before_!"

"Donny wasn't being _experimented _on before!"

"So now all of a sudden you decide it's time to come home, and you come walking in like you _live _here with a goddamn _gun _on your belt!"

Ryan's hand fell to his gun instinctively, as if he'd forgotten he was wearing it. "Well, you'll have to _excuse _me, Leo," he snapped. "I didn't expect anyone to be _living _here because I thought you were _dead_."

"Yeah, that would've solved _all _your problems, wouldn't it?"

Ryan felt familiar anger begin to stir inside of him. "Look, I didn't just drive from one side of the country to the other to take shit from _you_!" he yelled. "I'm here for Donny."

"And I don't need your help," Leo informed coldly. "So get the hell out of my house."

"Bull fucking _shit _you don't need my help!" Ryan yelled back, switching to the language he was more comfortable with. "If you wanna have a _chance _at getting him back alive, you need all the help you can _get_!"

"Look, I never told Mica to go find you," Leo informed him, not willing to speak in English.

"Mica?" Ryan questioned, confused. It took a minute for him to realize who "Mica" was. "She said her name was Sharon!"

Leo glared at him, unamused. "Well, whatever she told you, just forget it," he warned. "Just go back to Las Vegas, to whatever screwed up life you have over there, and forget this ever happened."

Leonardo spun and began to walk away. Ryan was frozen, his mind running back over his discussion with the girl. Had she _said _her name was Sharon? _Damn_, she played mind games!

"Hey, woah, _wait _a minute!" Ryan cried, realizing that Leo was leaving. "I just spent the past two days in a car comin' all the way out here and there's no way in hell I'm going back until I do whatever the fuck it was I came here to do!"

Leo spun. "And what is that, exactly?"

Raphael gave up the battle. It was too confusing to use both languages in the same conversation. "You know damn well you can't get him out without my help."

In a flash, Leonardo was armed, the tip of his sword not even an inch from Ryan's throat. "And you know damn well that you better get out of my house right now before I'm forced to take drastic measures to remove you."

Ryan stared at him for a moment, then took a step back. "Fine," he growled. "I'll leave. But you _know _you need me."

He spun and walked out of the lair, slamming the door behind him.

***

The knock on the door was unexpected. Breanne sat up and looked over the back of the couch. "Who the hell is that, at this time of night?"

Her husband sat up, running his fingers through his hair. "One way to find out."

She shoved him back down. "Just stay. I'll get it."

He didn't argue with her. She stood up and gathered her robe around her, then walked across the hardwood floor to the front door. She looked through the peep hole first. This wasn't the safest part of town and it _was _almost midnight. But it was a police officer. Or somebody dressed like one. She opened the door with the chain still in place and looked out at him. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Casey Jones," the man answered. "The phone book listed this address."

She stared at him for a minute. "Yes, that's my husband. Is he in some kind of trouble?"

The officer smiled wickedly. "Not yet." He stared at her, his gaze steady. "I just need to talk to him. Is he home?"

She was curious as to why he hadn't offered his badge yet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Casey stand up. "Is this official business?" she pressed.

He shook his head. "No, it's personal. I'm an old friend."

Casey gently pulled his wife out of the way and stood at the cracked open door. "Can I help you?"

Ryan stared at the clean-cut man on the other side of the door, and couldn't keep his mouth closed. "God, you look different."

"Do I know you?"

He swallowed hard. "Uh, yeah," he began hesitantly. "Well, you used to. You and I used to hang out a lot." He looked away. "Last time I saw you, you were walkin' into the hospital. Got yourself shot tryin' to bring down a drug ring. Never should've rushed into that fight."

Casey stared at him, confused. The police didn't know about that. Hell, _nobody _knew how he'd actually gotten shot that night. The man looked up. "Any of this ringin' a bell?" he asked.

Casey could only stare for a moment. "Who are you?" he finally questioned.

"You wouldn't know my name," Ryan answered, sighing.

"How do you know about that night?"

"I was there. I kind of... left on short notice right after that. Never got a chance to say goodbye."

Casey's eyes widened. Neither of them spoke for a long time. Finally, Casey shut the door, slid the chain over, and pulled it open again. He couldn't believe his eyes. Was he imagining this? This police officer... this _human _police officer...? "Raphael?" he managed.

Ryan smiled faintly. "Hi Casey. Been a while."

***

Something in the corner of the room caught Ryan's eye. Casey tensed as he followed his gaze, but didn't move. Ryan walked to the shelving unit against the far wall. He recognized the objects immediately, but didn't touch them. He was almost afraid to. But his eyes ran over the metal, noting every scratch and knick along the way. He turned to Casey slowly. "These are mine," he realized, his voice just above a whisper. "Or they _were._"

Casey sighed deeply. "Yeah." 

Ryan stared at him for a minute, then looked back at the _sai_. "Leo let me have them," Casey explained. "I think he was pretty pissed off at you when you left."

Ryan's eyes slid closed. "So you knew," he mumbled. "You all did. That I wasn't dead."

Casey sighed. "Leo and I don't really talk, Raph," he whispered. "I can't tell you all that he knows."

The silence was deafening as Ryan stared at the weapon, then turned away slowly. He was afraid to touch it, but he wasn't entirely sure why. "We have a spare bedroom," Breanne offered. "And if you want to take a shower, you're welcome to."

Ryan forced a smile. "Thanks."

Casey and his wife went to bed. Ryan liked the idea of a shower, but it didn't help him to relax like he hoped it would. He stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, long after he'd lay down. The breeze echoed in his ear as the fan turned to his face, then spun again. The wind moved down his body, pressing against the thin sheet over his legs. Something inside of him felt like it was on fire. Some hidden emotion that he hadn't known he posessed. Images flashed across his mind. His childhood played back like a movie on the screen of the ceiling. So long ago. It was as if he'd totally forgotten his past, and now it was suddenly rushing back to him.

He hadn't forgotten, of course. He always knew what he was and where he'd come from. But it was such a distant life, a foreign memory, that it hadn't affected the way he lived his life at all. Sure, it was hard for the first few months. Maybe even the first few years. How many nights had he woken up in a cold sweat, his brother's cries ringing in his ears?

Michaelangelo. He hadn't said that name in so long. It burned like acid on his lips, and stung the backs of his eyes like a whip snapped across his emotions. He threw the blankets aside and stood up, ignoring the head rush that blacked out his vision as he threw his clothes on, leaving his shirt half-unbuttoned. He wasn't really sure where he was going yet. All he knew was that he couldn't stay here. Even after a cross-country drive, _and _a fight with his brother, he couldn't sleep.

His eyes were drawn to the _sais _as he walked into the living room, and he froze. It was as if they were watching him, waiting, knowing his destiny better than he did. No, he knew it. He just didn't want to admit it. He had rejected the idea of _karma _when he left New York, more than a dozen years ago. But now it was becoming more and more clear that _it _hadn't rejected _him_.

A chill ran down his spine. He didn't want this. An ever-increasing part of him wanted to get back in the damn car and drive another 23 hours, straight through, back to Vegas, and forget this ever happened. But he couldn't do that. The fire inside of him wouldn't allow it.

He walked slowly to the shelves and reached up hesitantly to brush his fingers over the _sais_. He breathed deep, and lifted them carefully. Instantly, he felt power flood through him like electricity, heated pressure flowing from his hands, up his arms, and through the rest of his body. His fingers locked around the handles tightly as muscles tensed on their own, and he felt his eyes burn. The breath had been squeezed from his lungs, and for a moment he felt like he was going to collapse. It was as if they were magical, and they had just cast a powerful spell on him. But he knew they weren't. It was his own emotion that was consuming him; it didn't come from any outside force.

His hands trembled as he took a few quick breaths. A feeling of helplessness consumed him. Fear, pain... the agony of a life that he'd long forgotten about. Tears overflowed and trickled down his cheeks, and he struggled for breath. For a moment, he gripped reality, and he felt as if he were watching himself. He was confused by his own reaction. What was happening to him? And why couldn't he control it? But he couldn't make his fingers unclench from around the handles, as hard as he tried.

As quickly as it had come, the consciousness was whisked away, leaving him caught in a whirlwind of feelings. Memories rushed back to him and he dropped to his knees as fire ripped through his soul. He felt like he could scream, but couldn't manage the breath.

Suddenly, something inside of him snapped. Deep inside of him, buried underneath a million other emotions, anger flickered, then blazed. He wouldn't allow this. This was _his _body, _his _emotions, and he _would _control them! He opened his eyes and glared at the demons dancing around him. "This. Stops. _Now_!"

Instantly, the pressure weighting down on him lifted. The floodgates opened and anger rushed to every cell in his body. He came down from the emotional high as if he'd just jumped off a cliff. There were no specific memories that came to mind, but a totally different feeling rushed through him as he remembered his childhood. Learning to use these weapons, the first time he'd used them in battle, the first fight he'd won, and the first he'd lost. The memories were a part of him, like they hadn't been in so many years. 

He'd forced himself to forget that life. But now, as he accepted it, he felt it rushing back to him. He welcomed it. He welcomed the emotions, even the ones that he knew didn't apply to him anymore. Loneliness, jealousy, determination... _anger_. He hadn't felt fury like this in so long... but he knew exactly what to do with it. He had to feel this now. If he didn't, there was no way he would find it in himself to come against Leonardo and save his brother from whatever hell he was in right now. So he welcomed it, and let it flood through him, fueling the fire of life inside of him like dried leaves set ablaze.

He felt different.

As he looked down at his hands, he was almost surprised to see human skin. The fury died, settling into the places it belonged. Raphael loosened his grip on the _sais_, then tightened his fists around them again. They were heavier than he remembered them, and ice cold through the worn padding on the handles. He tried to spin them, and nearly dropped them both. Too many fingers got in the way.

He suddenly realized how exhausted he was. He felt almost ready to collapse. He pulled himself to his feet slowly, not surprised at how unsteady he was. He felt like he'd just walked through an emotional battlefield. He could feel the steady flow of emotion inside of him, reminding him that he was alive. It gave him strength to crawl all the way back to the spare bedroom.

He collapsed on the bed, weapons still in-hand, and felt what little energy he had slowly ebb away. He turned onto his side, holding the weapons close to him as if they were a lover. He felt like a teenager again. He let go of one of the _sais_, and brought that hand to rest against the cold blade. He pressed the pad of his index finger to the dulled tip of the _sai _and ran it back and forth slowly. He could feel the cold metal move over the ridges of his fingerprint. He thought about that for a minute. He'd dealt a lot with fingerprints, these past few years. He knew that they identified you, and that they made you different from everyone else. But until his transformation, he hadn't _had _fingerprints. The thought struck him, and he considered it as he drifted off to sleep.


	13. Problem Child

****

CHAPTER TWELVE

PROBLEM CHILD

Raphael walked through the dark tunnels, lost in thought. The _sais_ were stuck in his belt, replacing the gun that he'd left at Casey's. He wasn't entirely comfortable with these weapons, but he didn't dare show up at the lair again without getting rid of that gun. Leo would take his head off without a second thought. He doubted he could do much with the _sais_, though. He'd never really run from the martial arts, but he certainly didn't train like he once had. 

The scenery was eerily familiar. It was like walking through a former life. He couldn't identify all that he was feeling, but he knew that he was different. He knew that there was no way in hell he could go back to Las Vegas without first finding his brother, dead or alive.

He paused at the entrance to the lair and wondered for a moment if he should knock. He decided against it and pushed it open just in time to hear the phone ring. He glanced around. "Leo?"

Nothing moved and he knew he was alone. He walked to the phone and picked it up. Had to be a wrong number. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Casey Jones?"

He was dumbstruck for a moment. "Uh, who's this?"

"Is this Mica Jones' residence?"

He hesitated for a moment. He didn't even want to think of how _that _worked. "Casey's not here," he answered. "But I'm her uncle. Is she in some kind of trouble?" It was obvious that this was not a social call.

"We have her down here at the police station," he informed. "We need a guardian to come and pick her up. We've been trying to contact someone for the past several hours."

Raphael's eyes closed slowly. "What'd she do?"

"She was in a car with a drunk driver."

"Was she drunk?"

"Yes. Her blood alcohol level was point oh-nine."

"Alright," Raph sighed. "I'll be up there in a minute."

***

She looked up as he walked into the station. It didn't take him long to notice the angry glare, or the small dog on her lap. She looked away. Raphael didn't speak to her. He watched her for a minute, then walked up to the police officer who'd been supervising her for the past four hours. They talked in hushed tones and she glared at the tile floor, angry tears burning her eyes. She didn't even _do _anything this time. 

The cop took Raphael aside, into an adjoining room where she could still hear them talking. She clenched her teeth at the patronizing tone he used. "We found her well after curfew. The car she was riding in contained stolen property, and open intoxicants."

_I didn't _know _that, dammit!_ she yelled silently. _It's not like we were _drinking_ in the car!_

"All of the people in the car were legally drunk, including the driver. Her life was in very real danger."

"I understand that," Raphael answered seriously. "I'll... make sure and talk to her."

"Mr. Collins, this is the _fourth _time this has happened. Simply _talking _to her doesn't seem to be working."

She hid her eyes with her hand, but pulled away quickly. She didn't want to smear the damned makeup. Raphael didn't know what to say. Four times. It made her sound like such a rebellious, dangerous kid. It wasn't her _fault_! "It begs the question of how many times she's been driven home by someone who's not sober, and we _haven't _caught her. Drunk driving is a _very _dangerous thing."

"Yes, I know," Raphael mumbled. "I'm a Vegas cop, I see it a lot."

"Then I hope you you understand the seriousness of this situation," he sighed. "Because we don't seem to be getting any cooperation from her or from her father."

Mica stood up and walked to the desk, carrying the small dog. She was tired of listening to them talk about her. "I've been sitting here for four hours and my dog needs to go outside," she informed. "Unless you want a puddle on your floor, I need to step outside for a minute."

"Go ahead," the officer granted, not looking up. "But come right back."

She turned and walked out the door. Raphael saw her go out the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything. "I appreciate your concern, Detective," he answered, to a lecture he hardly heard. "I'll certainly talk to her, and to her father and..." His voice trailed off as he ran out of things to say. He knew what the guy wanted to hear, but he couldn't really say it. He wasn't her father and he couldn't do anything.

"If this happens again, I'm going to be forced to write out a ticket," he mumbled.

Raph nodded. He was ready to get out of here. He stood up. "I understand."

The man continued to talk at him as he walked out into the lobby. Then he stopped as he looked around. "Aaron, where's the girl who was sitting right there?"

"She had to take the dog out."

"She _what_!" he cried.

Raphael walked to the door and opened it, followed closely by the officer. She was long gone. Probably hailed a cab. Either that or she was in the sewers already. Either way, he wasn't going to find her until she wanted to be found. The officer was apologizing profusely. Raph sighed. "Don't worry about it," he mumbled. "I'll find her. Thank you for all your help."

"If we find her, do you want us to..."

"Yeah, give me a call," he interrupted. "Thanks."

***

"What are you doing here?" Leonardo demanded.

Raphael stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Looking for Mica," he answered.

Leo eyed him suspiciously. "Why?" he asked. "What'd she do?"

"I didn't say she did anything," Raphael mumbled. "She come home yet?"

"I haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon," he retorted. "When was the last time _you _saw her?"

"About eight this morning. Where were you?"

Leo sat down on the edge of the couch and hid his face in his hands. "She has a midnight curfew," he mumbled. "She was out with her boyfriend. I went looking for her at about two thirty."

So that's why he hadn't been home to hear the phone ring. "Well, I came by at seven and you weren't home yet," Raph mumbled. "Phone rang and I answered it. She was up at the police station and they couldn't get ahold of you."

Leo sighed deeply and hid his face in his hands. "What'd she do this time?"

"She was in a car with a drunk driver," he mumbled. "Past curfew. Didn't help that she was carrying a set of 'chucks on her."

He tossed the leather carrying case - only slightly larger than a cell phone case - at Leonardo. It rattled as the metal _nunchakus_ that extended to their full length knocked against each other. Leo caught it out of the air and stared at it for a moment, his eyes clouding over. For a moment, it was silent. "I don't know what it is with these new friends of hers. I mean, she's not normally like this. But all of a sudden with these people... And then she takes off an _hitchhikes _across the country without telling me where she's going and I'm here thinking she's dead."

"When did it start?"

"About two weeks ago."

"After Donny disappeared?"

He looked up. "She went out before, but she never went out of her way to break the rules like this. I mean, she's been picked up four times in the past two weeks. And _never _before that."

"She got in with the wrong crowd," Raphael concluded.

"And they're gonna get her killed."

Raph shrugged. "It's the ultimate test of her training. And her integrity, for that matter."

Leo glared at him. "So if you went and picked her up at the station, how is it that...?"

The door opened and they both turned. Mica stepped inside and her eyes immediately hit the floor. Shit, they were _waiting _for her. _Both _of them. Raphael found his voice first. "Where'd you go?" he asked casually.

"Hitched," she answered quietly.

"Where?"

"Nowhere."

He nodded slowly. "Where's the dog?"

She shrugged.

"You could've been killed," Leo interrupted.

She looked up. "Yeah. That would just break your heart, wouldn't it?"

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" he cried.

"Do you wanna punish me or can I just go to my room?"

"You're grounded."

"Whatever," she mumbled quietly.

She walked to her room and shut the door behind her. "Now she'll sleep all day and she'll sneak out again tonight," Leo sighed. "Like a female version of _you_."

"No," Raphael mumbled, staring at the closed door. "What I did was done consistantly. I wasn't lashing out at anyone in particular. I was just being myself and hating the world."

"And she's not?"

Raphael chuckled as he glanced back at Leo. "She's angry. At _you_. For something. And I'd be willing to bet it has something directly to do with Donatello."

"What, you run off to Vegas and come back with a PhD in psychology?"

He smiled. "I'm a _cop_, Leo, remember? I see this all the time."

"So what am I supposed to do about it?" Leo asked sarcastically. "Let her go out there and screw around until she gets herself killed?"

"Live and let learn," Raph mumbled, walking to Mica's door. "She needs a way to vent."

The knock startled her. She looked up toward the closed door. "What do you want?" she demanded.

The doorknob rattled. "Wanna unlock the door?" Raphael's voice asked.

"No."

"I could break it down if you'd prefer," he replied casually.

She growled in frustration as she pushed herself off of her bed and threw the door open. Raphael was leaning against the frame. "Good morning, sunshine."

She glared at him. "What the hell do you want?"

"Wanna talk to you."

"I don't feel much like talking right now."

He pushed past her into the room. "Well, that's too bad, because we're gonna do it anyways."

She crossed her arms over her chest as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "You know, you come all the way out to Vegas to find me and then when I come back here with you, you cop an attitude and decide... what? That it's not worth it to you anymore? That you want me to go back?"

She glared at him. "I never _said _that."

"Well, maybe you'd like to translate for me. I mean, I thought you had an agenda here. How does getting picked up by the police fit into your plan?"

"What the hell do you care?" she demanded. "You're going back anyways. This has nothing to do with you."

He pointed at her. "Hey, _you _brought me into it when _you _showed up on _my _door. And I didn't come all the way out here to turn around and go home 'cause Leo ain't happy to see me." She stared at him, confused. "I _said _I'd try, and I mean it. Leo ain't gonna change that by bitchin' at me. But you _might _change it if you keep this shit up. I'm not gonna get in the middle of a goddamn family feud."

"You're not leaving?" she asked, not sure if that was what he was saying.

"I'm true to my word, Mica. What I said, I meant it."

She felt her defenses slipping away. She'd thought for sure he'd walked out of their lives forever when he left last night. "Why would you even think that?" he asked, reading the look on her face.

"Because it's what _sensei _told me," she informed. "And I heard you two yelling at each other in Japanese."

"You don't know Japanese?"

"Leo-_sensei_ only talks in Japanese when he doesn't want me to know what he's saying."

He took that as a no, and sighed deeply. "I'm not going anywhere."

"He said you were. And he got really mad at me for bringing you here."

"No, he got mad because you didn't tell him where you were _going_, and he thought you were in trouble."

"That's what he told me, too. But it's not true."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know him. And I know how much he hates you."

The words struck Raphael. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond. Mica turned to her desk and found a file folder. She pulled out a photocopy of a newspaper article. She handed it to him. "This is the only documentation that exists from the experiments," she sighed. "First hand accounts from Dr. Matthew Richardson. With a few changes. He was never specific as to exactly what _race _he was talking about, only that there were very few of them alive and that one of them had volunteered himself and his brothers to undergo some tests, in the name of science."

His jaw dropped as he stared at the article, skimming it quickly. "They wanted to find a cure for this long list of diseases," Mica continued. "That's what initally leaked to the press. Mention a cure for AIDS, and they were banging down his door. But he was very careful about how he worded things. And how much information he gave them. They called it Operation V-C, whatever that means."

He looked up slowly. "You think I volunteered?" he asked in disbelief. "That I went with them _willingly_?"

"Didn't you?" she replied, her voice tinted with cynicism.

He stood up, taking the paper with him. He paused at the door. "Leo know you have this?"

"Yes," she answered. "Why?"

"Just don't wanna get you in trouble," he mumbled as he walked out of the room.

Leonardo was in the _dojo_. He felt Raph enter and immediately stopped the exercise. "Do you need something?"

"You think I went with them willingly," he stated, still lost. He'd never even _considered _that they would think that.

Leo studied him for a minute. "With who?"

"The scientists." There was a long pause. "Do you believe that?"

Leonardo wasn't sure he wanted to get into this conversation. "I didn't _want _to. But you certainly didn't give me any reason to believe otherwise."

Raphael stared at him, dumbfounded. He couldn't have been more shocked if Leo had just hit him in the face. "You run away," Leo continued, "don't even let us know that you're _alive_. How are we _supposed _to feel about the fact that you don't want to face us? Or, for that matter, to face your brother who's dying."

It took Raph a moment more to find his voice. "I didn't think he was going to die," he finally managed. "I lived through it. I thought he would, too."

"If you thought that, why did you leave him for dead?"

"Leave him for _dead_?" Raph cried. "Leo, what the hell are you _talking _about?"

"You _left _him in the sewers and you ran off to the other side of the country. If you didn't know he was dying, how'd you ever find out?"

Raphael hung his head, his eyes closing slowly. "I left him in the best care that I knew of," he whispered.

"You _left _him. You left him to die and wouldn't even be with him while he did it."

"There were other things I needed to do."

"Like killing the scientists?"

Raph looked up reluctantly. "So you know about that?"

Leo crossed his arms over his chest. "Took me a while to figure it out, since you didn't kill Richardson and he was the one ultimately responsible. The one who's probably back _now_."

Raphael clenched his teeth. "And that's _my _fault?"

"You have no business here anymore, Raphael," Leonardo said coldly. "You left us, and I'm not even gonna tell you how hard it was to accept that."

"I did everything I could for him."

"So why the hell are you back?"

"Because this isn't _about _Michaelangelo right now!" Raphael yelled. "I did all I could for him and it wasn't enough! So does that mean I shouldn't even _try _to help Donny?"

"We don't need your help," Leo said coldly.

"Fuck your pride, Leo!" Raph screamed, furious. "There's no way in _hell _you're gonna get him back unharmed unless I help you. I don't care _how _good you are! We're talking about a high-security federal building, here. It'd be like trying to break into CIA Headquarters and break a wanted criminal out _while _he's being interrogated. And yeah, you're _ninja_. And yeah, you might be able to get in. You might even be able to get _to _him. But there's no way in _hell _you're gonna manage to get back out carrying him with you!"

He didn't give Leonardo a chance to speak, even though he tried to. "You're thinkin' all you gotta do is turn a key on a door and he'll walk out and be fine," Raph continued loudly. "But you're _wrong_! _If _he's alive and _if _he's conscious, he's probably not even going to be able to walk, much less _fight _his way out of that goddamn building! You haven't _seen _what they do, Leo. I _lived _through it! 

"You hate me, and that's _fine_. I don't give a _shit _what you think! Stand there and tell me you don't need me, because you can't bring yourself to admit that you need my help when you hate me so damn much. But you _know _you need me on this one. Is it more important to make your point or to save your brother, Leo?"

Leonardo stared at him icily. "You have no right," he answered, "to come in my house and say those things."

"You're right," Raphael answered. "If you want to ignore the truth, your house is the only place you can _do _it and I have no right to interfere with that. But this isn't _about _you, Leo. It's about _Donny_. And they're gonna _kill _him if you don't do something about it, oh Fearless Leader."

Leonardo contemplated attacking this intruder, but kept his feet planted on the mat. "Get. _Out_," he ordered.

"Fine," Raph shot back. "But let me ask you this: How are you gonna feel when I go back to Vegas and you find out Donny's dead? And then you get to spend the rest of your life as the last of your kind."

Raphael knew he was hitting below the belt. Leo knew he was nearing the end of his control. "I said get the _hell _out of my house!"

Raphael spun and walked away.

Leo watched him go, staring after him with ice cold eyes. He was wrong. He was so wrong, it was painful. Leonardo walked into his room and slammed the door behind him. He sat down near the bed on the floor, and closed his eyes. He tried to clear his thoughts, but it required far too much patience for his present state. So he let his mind go. He let it run over the conversation over and over again until he'd managed to totally exhaust himself. He was so wrong.

Leo didn't hate him. He hated what he'd _become_. He hated what he'd _done_. But he loved his brother so fiercely it brought tears to his eyes. And that's what made it hurt all the more. Because he knew that if Raphael had ever loved him that much, or _any _of his brothers, he never would've left. How could he just walk out on everything and everyone he'd always known? Let them all think he was dead; let them mourn him and struggle to piece together a family that didn't exist anymore?

If not for Michaelangelo, they _would've _thought he was dead. Mike's last wish was for them to find Raphael. Even on his deathbed, he loved him. And Raph was ice cold. He'd walked away and he'd never looked back. Through the _years _of confusion and pain, Leo never _once _heard from his brother. He lived his life the way he'd always wanted to: part of a society that he'd always envied. He forgot his family, forgot his origins, and walked out on them when they needed him.

How would Mica's life have been different? he wondered. If they could've left New York; if they hadn't needed to stay close to Casey? What could she have done? What could she have _been _with a little support from somebody who could've made a difference in her life? Rei sure didn't give a damn about her, and Casey was just a name on a paper. He didn't want to be a part of her life. He just stood in where her mother had walked out, but he didn't really want her. She couldn't even point him out in a crowd. But what if Raph had been there? What could "Ryan Collins" have done for her that Leonardo couldn't? He would've made it so much easier, he knew that much. He would've changed her life.

He still could.

Leonardo pushed the thought away quickly. When this was over, he'd be on a plane back to Vegas. Probably without even saying goodbye. Because he didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore, except for himself. He wouldn't even care about Donny if it weren't a matter of staying true to his word to Mica and bettering his self-image. And _that _hurt. Because as much as Leo hated to admit it, he _still _loved him. He just didn't trust him. And he doubted he ever could again.


	14. Fragile Truce

****

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

FRAGILE TRUCE

"Where's Raphael-san?"

"I don't know."

"You don't _know _or you don't care?" Mica pressed.

Leonardo glared at her.

She sighed deeply as she sat down on the edge of the couch. "You spent the entire day in your room," she reminded him. "Donatello spent the entire day in a lockdown on..."

"That is _enough_, Mica," he snapped, cutting her off.

"Okay, fine," she mumbled. "So what are you going to do about it?"

He didn't answer. Why did she think he had to answer to her? He never would've even _thought_ of speaking that way to Master Splinter. "Do you want to know what I think?" she continued when she got no response.

"If I did, I would ask you."

"I think we need his help."

Leonardo looked up. "Do you have a reason to be in here?" he asked.

"On my way to the _dojo_."

"_Go _there, then," he shot.

"And I wanted to give you this."

She placed a folded piece of notebook paper on the coffee table and stood up. He watched her walk away, then turned his eyes to the paper. A messy string of ten numbers was scribbled diagonally in black marker. He sighed and his eyes slid closed.

***

Raphael stared down at the city streets, absently toying with the _sai_ between his fingers. The new building that they'd chosen when the old one was destroyed was just outside the city, much closer than before. He could be there in ten minutes, but he wasn't sure what he'd do when he got there. He needed a plan. He knew he couldn't just break in and take him away. He wasn't even going to _tell _Leonardo where the building was, because he knew he'd try just that.

He chuckled at the thought. Never in his life did he think he would have to hide information from Leo to keep him from doing something irrational. Leonardo had always been so calm and collected. Things had changed so much, and he still wasn't sure what to think of it all.

His cell phone rang and he reached for it. The caller ID didn't recognize the number. Normally, he didn't answer calls like that. But he figured it might be Mica. "Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

He was only slightly surprised to hear Leonardo's voice. "Rooftop across from Vinny's. Or what _used _to be Vinny's. Guess it's called Parlor Place now." Raph chuckled. "Can't tell if it's a pizza joint or a strip club."

"Don't leave."

The line went dead and he hung up the phone. He slipped it back into his leather jacket and shrugged his arms out of it. He laid it across the ledge and grabbed his other _sai_ from his belt. It had been a _long _time since he'd used these. They were so much heavier than he remembered them...

He twirled them both and nearly dropped them, but managed to lock his fingers through the prongs, crossing them over his chest defensively. He stared for a minute at the way he was holding them, with all four of his fingers, two on either side of the center blade. It didn't feel right. He turned the one in his right hand and caught it again, this time with only his first two fingers. He tucked the others underneath the prongs. He grabbed the blade and pushed hard against the hand that was holding the weapon. It didn't move. He had a much better grip on it this way.

He tried to turn it again and it clattered to the cement rooftop. He sighed and concentrated on the other one. He closed his fingers over the handle and placed his thumb over the area where the prongs interjected with the center blade. There was a slight bump there. He swept the other _sai _up into his hand and turned it backwards. Woah, that didn't feel right, either.

He spent a few minutes trying to figure out how to hold and turn the weapons with two extra fingers. Even if he'd remembered everything, he would've had to figure this out all over again. He relaxed his muscles and closed his eyes. He knew that somewhere in his subconscience, he _did _remember. He just had to bring it out. And there was no telling how long that might take. One way to find out...

He braced, then spun out and kicked at an imaginary opponent. He ended in _Kiba Dachi_, and looked down at his hands. He'd turned one of the _sais _to point behind him and raised the other one. He was covered on all sides. Now what? He repeated the movement, and this time got one step further, sliding his right foot back to _Nekoashi_. He snap-kicked forward with his left leg, then spun. Slowly, it was coming back to him. He'd learned this before. He remembered it, very faintly.

He looked down and saw that both weapons were pointed behind him now. He shifted his weight to his right leg and brought his left foot up and behind his knee. He remembered that stance, but there was something wrong with it. He lowered his foot again and faced forward. _Reinoji-Dachi_. This was a natural stance.

"You can't move from _Sagiashi _to _Reinoji_."

The voice startled him and he turned around to see Leonardo leaning against the ledge. He hadn't even noticed him. But somehow, he wasn't surprised. "Oh yeah?" he challenged. "Why not?"

"Where are your opponents?" Leo questioned. "You got one to your right you just avoided, but you never attacked him. Then you turned to the front again."

"Well, if someone's in front of me that's more of an immediate threat..." Raphael started.

"Then you would immediately go into an attack stance," Leo interrupted. "Not a natural."

Raphael grinned mischeviously. "Sorry, Leo-_sensei_, it's been a while."

"Obviously."

Leonardo's voice was cold. Raphael sighed and slipped the weapons back into his belt. "Did you want something?" he asked, abandoning any hopes of not turning this into an argument.

"Donatello needs your help," Leonardo said coldly.

There was something _so _satisfying about being right. But Raphael resisted the urge to rub his brother's nose in it. He knew it was already humbling enough for Leo to spit it out. "Okay..." he started, not sure what he was supposed to say. He'd known that for a long time. It was nothing new to him.

Leonardo sighed. Raphael wasn't going to make this any easier for him. "I don't even know where to look for him."

"I know where he is."

Leo turned to him, surprised. "How?" he asked. "I thought the building was destroyed."

"It was," Raph mumbled. "They went somewhere else."

"And you know where?"

"Didn't I already say that?"

"Okay..." Leo prodded. "And you've... been there? How do you know?"

"I did some research," Raphael mumbled. "No, I haven't been there. I just talked to people."

"Where is it?"

Raphael didn't answer. Leo nodded silently as he realized he was being ignored. "Okay well, maybe it would be better to go there now, while it's dark. Instead of in the morning."

"You're not going," Raphael stated firmly.

"Like _hell _I'm not going!"

Raph turned and glared at him. "Then go," he answered. "You don't need _my _help to get yourself killed."

Leo opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again before any sound came out. He felt anger stir inside of him, but let the conversation pass. He leaned forward on the ledge and stared across the street. 

"So Mica has a boyfriend," Raphael mumbled.

"Yes."

"You ever met the guy?"

"Yes."

"And he seems okay to you?"

"You going somewhere with this?"

Raphael turned to look at him. "Yeah. I am. I don't like him."

Leonardo laughed. "You don't even _know _him!"

"What's a seventeen year old guy doing with a fourteen year old girl, Leo?" Raph challenged.

Leonardo wasn't even going to ask how he knew how old he was. "Since when does age matter to you?" Leo returned. "You expect me to believe you never slept with girls younger than you?"

"That's exactly my point," he mumbled under his breath. "You really want Mica seeing somebody like me? He's gonna screw her over without thinking twice, and you're gonna have one royally messed up little girl."

Leonardo sighed. "Look, he's been a regular part of her life for over a year. And I don't have any complaints."

"No, of course not," Raph mumbled. "She'd be stupid to tell you he was the one driving that car last night." Leonardo flinched. "Or that everyone _else_ in that car got together to _gangbang _at his house this afternoon."

Leo turned and stared at him in disbelief. "Yeah, right."

"I was _there_, Leo. I checked him out. And I don't like what I saw." Leonardo didn't answer. "He's using her for something," Raph finally concluded. "And it's not sex or she would've been out that door today whether she was grounded or not."

Leonardo sighed. "Raph, just..." He searched for a way to say what he wanted to without starting World War III. "Stop, okay? It's none of your business."

Raphael sighed and looked away. He watched the people pass by on the brightly lit streets below. It was a long time before Leo's voice jolted him to attention again. "So," he started quietly. "Las Vegas."

"Yeah," Raph mumbled. "Las Vegas."

There was another long pause. "What's it like?" Leonardo finally managed.

Raph shrugged. "City of Sin, looks just like it sounds."

"That's not what I meant."

Raphael's eyes slid closed. He'd suspected that. "I won't lie to you, Leo," he mumbled. "It's nice to not have to hide all the time. Wear ten layers of clothing in the middle of July so people don't see your skin..."

"Was it worth it?"

Anger flared like a pile of dried leaves touched by fire. Raphael set his face like stone and turned to Leo. "Was it worth _what_?" he demanded.

Leo stared at him coldly. "You know what I mean."

Raphael fought back the urge to kill the son of a bitch where he stood. Instead, he pushed away from the ledge and grabbed his jacket. "Fuck you, Leo."

In an instant, he was gone.

***

Carrie looked up as a man walked through the front door of the building, escorted by a security officer, at nine o'clock sharp. "Can I help you?" she asked.

He smiled politely. "Yeah. I'm looking for a Dr. Richardson."

Carrie eyed him suspiciously. "And you are...?"

"My name is John. Tell him I have information on his research."

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him. "Just a moment; I'll let her know you're here."

Carrie closed the window again and reached for the phone. It rang four times before it was picked up. "Dr. Richardson? There's a man here who says he has information for you about your research. Do you want me to tell him to leave?"

Dr. Richardson paused. "What does he look like?"

Carrie looked again out the one-way glass. "Average height, blonde hair, kind of spiked, tanned skin and dark glasses. He looks about twenty-two maybe. I'm not good at guessing ages."

There was another silence. "I'll be right there, Carrie."

Dr. Richardson hung up the phone. "What's going on?" Dr. Lexton asked, looking up from the microscope he was studying. 

"It's probably nothing, Paul," she assured him. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She pulled the goggles off of her head and dropped them to the table. Then she walked to the door, closing it tightly behind her. She walked down the long hallway, listening to the steady click of her heels on the tile floor. She took the elevator down, and made her way to the front lobby. The man waiting for her was exactly as Carrie had described him. He wore a brightly colored button-down shirt and a pair of baggy, light colored jeans. She guessed that Carrie had been about right on her guess of his age, though he might have been a little older.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

The man stared at her for a moment, seemingly taken aback. The doctor smiled as his eyes ran over her long legs. She knew he couldn't help it, and that fact alone was amusing. "You're Dr. Richardson?"  
"Yes."

He seemed surprised. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I was expecting someone a little... older."

She smiled. "You were expecting my father," she informed him. She'd heard this story before. "He's retired now. Is there something I can help you with?"

He snapped back into reality. "I read his work, a long time ago. About his experiments with a race of mutants?"

The doctor crossed her arms over her chest, inspecting him carefully. "Yes, that's right," she confirmed. "My father led those experiments." This much had already been released to the public long ago, though the details of the experiments, and their limited success, had not been offered.

"Have you ever thought of... continuing your experiments?"

The woman eyed him suspiciously. Surely he could not know of the recent developments in their investigation. The public didn't know that there were more of the turtle mutants, or that another had been captured. "What exactly, do you mean?"

The young man smiled. "I don't suppose you're aware of the fact that one of those mutants has living offspring?"

The doctor's interest was instantly peaked. She glanced at the one-way mirror looking into the receptionist's area. If this information would lead to anything, she had to be careful how much of it was heard by civilians. "Won't you... step into my office?" she asked.

The man smiled mysteriously. "Sure."

He followed her through the electromagnetic doors and into a room to the right. "How did you come about this information?" she questioned.

The man laughed. "Oh, it's real simple. See, I date the girl."


	15. Scene of the Crime

****

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SCENE OF THE CRIME

Raphael stood under the steady stream of hot water, his hands against the tile wall in front of him. He tensed as he heard the door open. "Raph?"

It was Leo. "Here," he called back.

The door closed again and there was nothing but the loud hiss of the water as it rushed over him. "Well?" Leonardo asked after a long pause.

"Well what?"

"Mica told me what you did this morning." 

Raphael didn't answer. He half-expected a lecture. After all, he wasn't reporting to Leo to ask permission before making any move. He _knew _that would irritate him. He paused as he considered that for a moment. Why did that make any difference to him now? They weren't children anymore. They weren't a clan anymore, small as it had ever been, and Leo wasn't in charge.

"Did it work?" Leo pressed after getting no response.

"It will," Raph answered.

Leonardo leaned back against the sink. He knew Raphael was trying to use his brain, to avoid an all-out war. But it was so unlike him, it was scary. Why was it that the one time Leo wanted to do things in Raph's typical gung-ho fashion, Raphael wouldn't back him up? He considered that, and was startled by the realizations that came to mind. Somewhere along the line, sometime when he was far away on the other side of the country, Raphael had changed. Leo wasn't sure how, and he wasn't really even sure if he liked the change. But he was smart enough to know that he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"Raph," he started, nearly choking on his voice. "If we're gonna get him outta there alive, we need to work together. As a team. Now, can you, or can you not do that?"

Raphael sighed. "Leo, what gives you any idea that they will think twice about killing you, too?" He shut the water off and let it drip from his body. "We can work as a team, but you're staying as far away from that building as possible if I have to handcuff you to the kitchen table."

"I don't care what happens to me."

Raphael felt anger stir inside of him as he grabbed the towel draped over the shower curtain rod. "Well, that makes two of us. But let me remind you that there's a fourteen-year-old girl who cares a great deal about you _and _Donatello."

Leo looked down as the curtain was pulled aside, and felt shock radiate through him as he glanced back up. "What did you _do_?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"The hair coloring will wash out after a few times," Raphael answered. "And the tan will wear off." He stepped out of the shower. "I went there thinking I'd run into someone from the original experiment and they all know what I looked like. But they remember me with patches of dark hair and really pale skin."

"So who are you pretending to be?" Leonardo questioned.

"Mica's boyfriend."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Aren't you a little old?"

Raphael shrugged. "You'd be surprised what I can do with a little bit of makeup. Not like I look as old as I am anyway." Leo stepped aside as Raphael slid his hand over the mirror, wiping away the condensation. "I did a lot of undercover work in the police force," he explained. "They teach you how to change your appearance."

He ran his fingers through the spiked hair, inspecting it. "It's already starting to fade out," he observed.

"You cut it, too."

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled. "The blonde didn't look right with the cut I had. Not that I like this any better, but it fits the style I'm going for." He glanced at his brother. "Idiot teenage kids that bleach their hair and talk 'dude' to everyone they meet tend to have some weird hairstyles. Believe me, I know."

Leo smiled in spite of himself. "So what, exactly, is this plan of yours?"

Raphael grabbed his clothes off the sink and dressed quickly. "I don't know yet."

Leo reconsidered his earlier thought, that Raphael might be thinking things through more clearly. "You don't _know_?"

"We didn't talk much today," he explained. "I just wanted to give her something to think about. I gave her the number here to contact me, so if the phone rings don't answer it."

"You sure that was a good idea?" Leonardo questioned.

Raph grinned. "Relax, Leo. It's not like they don't know about this place already." He paused. "Speaking of which, did you guys ever get all the cameras out of here?"

Leonardo stared at him. "Cameras?"

Raphael sighed. "I'll take that as a no."

Fear crept into Leo's eyes and washed over his emotions. "You mean they could still be watching us?"

"I doubt it," Raphael mumbled. "The corresponding equipment was crushed in an earthquake fifteen years ago. And I don't imagine it works too well with their modern stuff."

Raph towel dried his hair and turned to his brother. "Hey Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"How did they find him?"

Leonardo paused. "I don't really know. He'd been spending a lot of time talking to someone on the internet and we assumed he was going to meet... him or her. He never came back."

Raphael considered that. "How did you find out, then?"

Leo's eyes dropped. "Witnesses. After they talked and the other guy left, military guys busted in and 'arrested' him. It was on the news. They wrote it off as apprehending a suspected terrorist."

"Did he fight?"

"No. There were civilians all over the place. And they were in an art museum."

Raphael sighed. "You don't know anything about who he was meeting with?"

"Dark hair, looked oriental... Someone said he spoke in another language and I'd be willing to bet it was Japanese. And he'd already left when they attacked Donny."

"Could've been anyone," Raph mumbled.

"Yes, it could have."

"I'm gonna go pull some strings," Raphael sighed. "See if I can find out who he was talking to. You need to get ahold of some antibiotics and home heavy-duty painkillers. And set up an easy way in to either a blood bank or a hospital. If we get Donny out of there, he's gonna need some serious medical attention. And you need to be prepared for the idea that we might not be able to do anything for him regardless."

"I know that," Leo answered coldly.

"I figured you did."

***

"S'cuse me."

The woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"My name's Ryan Collins and I'm with the police department." He flashed his badge at her, too quickly for her to read it. He doubted she'd question the slight difference in uniform, either. "We're looking for a suspected terrorist that might have been here last week. Do you mind if I take a look at your security tapes from last Thursday?"

"Uh, no, not at all," she answered, concerned. "Cindy?" She turned and looked over her shoulder at another woman who looked up. "Can you take the desk for a minute? I'll be right back."

"No problem."

Ryan followed behind the woman to the security room, and stood back as she talked quietly with a uniformed security officer. A moment later, he was approached by the man. "Was there something you were wanting to see?"

"Yeah, Ryan Collins, NYPD," he smiled politely, flashing his badge. "I need to see your security tapes from January tenth. We're investigating a possible terrorist connection with a man who might have come in here around three o'clock."

He eyed Raphael suspiciously. "There was an arrest made here at about that time by the US Marshalls."

Raph nodded. "Yes, I'm aware of that. The man we're after may have been talking to him shortly before that. We want him for questioning."

He considered that for a moment before finally deciding that he believed it. "Why don't you step in here," he offered.

Raphael followed him into a smaller room and his eyes played over the wall of monitors. "Were you on duty when the arrest was made?" he questioned.

"As a matter of fact, I was," the officer mumbled. "It actually happened closer to three thirty."

"Which room?"

He thumbed through the rack of tapes. "4-B," he answered. "It's where we keep ancient South American artifacts."

"Did you see the arrest?"

"Of course."

"And do you know if his partner had already left the building at that time, or had they just recently parted?"

"That I wouldn't know," he mumbled, slipping the tape into the player. "This is the only angle that catches the arrest, though."

Raphael watched as a dark-clad figure walked down the wide hallway. His head was down, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Raph could tell by the strange bulge in the jacket who he was looking at. It was definately Donatello, alone and weaponless. He watched Donny freeze, and look up slowly past the camera. A little girl nearby looked like she screamed, and she pressed close to her mother. Donatello slowly took his hands out of his pockets and looked around, as if he were sizing up his opponents. He put his hands behind his head and two figures with guns stepped forward to handcuff him. He complied, staring into what looked like a dozen or more guns. They were off camera and Raphael couldn't really see them. After a moment, they turned and led him away, handcuffed. Just that easy. Raph felt anger stir inside of him, but forced it aside.

"Okay, I need you to roll back," he mumbled. "I need to follow his route through the museum."

"Well, that's gonna take some time," the man answered. "I mean, each one of these tapes shows a different room."

"I've got all day," Raphael mumbled. "And I'm familiar with your equipment if you wanna just point out which tapes are from that day." The security officer looked skeptical. "Or you could just copy each one of them for me and I can come back tomorrow to get them. With a warrant, maybe?"

***

Raphael's phone cut through the silence like a knife. He jumped, startled, then picked it up. "Speak."

"Raph, it's me."

"Hey, Mica, what's up?"

"Where are you?"

"Watching security tapes from the museum," he answered. "Bored out of my skull."

"You just got a call here from Catherine Richardson."

He sighed. "Yeah, you weren't supposed to answer that."

"Well nobody told _me _that!" she cried. "How was I supposed to know?"

"What'd she say?" he asked, shuttling back through the minutes on the VCR. He found where Don entered the room, and saw that he was still alone. Damn. His friend had been gone for a _long _time.

"She said her team is interested in meeting you. Wanted to know when you could come up there."

"What'd you tell her?"

"That I'd deliver the message."

"She ask who you were?"

"Yeah."

"And you told her...?"

"Your girlfriend."

"Good. Let's keep her thinking that way. She give you a number where I could call her back?"

"Uh, no, she said just... show up. Before midnight, because I guess that's when everyone goes home." 

"Sounds about right." 

He followed Donny back through another room and stopped the tape to play it forward slow. "So tell me something," he mumbled. "Since I'm bored half to death and all for a few minutes of small talk."

"What?" Mica chuckled.

"How is your name Mica Jones?"

She sighed. "When my mother went away, she signed over legal guardianship to Casey and his wife. So that I could go to school and live a life without her. She couldn't exactly sign me over to Leo."

He could hear the bitterness in her voice. "So technically, your guardians are Casey and Breanne."

"I don't even _know _Casey and Breanne," she mumbled. "They're just the people that sign things for me. And come pick me up when I get in trouble."

"So why don't the police call _them_?"

"Because Leonardo wants to _know _when I get in trouble," she mumbled. "I hate it. It's so stupid."

Raphael smiled and played back to another room. Donny stopped next to a man and stood there for a moment, speaking with him. "_Finally_," Raph mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Mica asked.

"I got Donny talking to our mystery guest," he informed. "Now I just gotta get a clear shot of him."

"What's he look like?"

"Dunno," Raph muttered, struggling to hold the cell phone with his shoulder. He stopped the tape and let it play. "It's in black and white and kinda fuzzy. I gotta still a picture before I can enhance it."

The man glanced in the direction of the camera and Raph froze the picture instantly. "Think I got it," he informed. "Just gotta clean it up a bit."

Mica waited patiently, saying nothing. "He's definately Japanese," Raph concluded as the zoomed in picture focused. "Thirty-three maybe, clean-cut, wearing a black suit." 

He played the video again and watched carefully. He noted when the mystery guest tensed as someone walked into the room behind him. It was just a slight change. Not even a movement, really. His eyes shifted, as did Donatello's, and his hands dropped loosely to his sides. It was not a threatening stance, by any means. But it was obvious that he was alert. Ready to fight. There was no way he could've seen her. And to be that alert and be warned by _sound_, he would've turned to look in her direction. It was instinct. But it had been overridden. Raphael had a feeling he knew exactly how.

"And actually..." Raphael started hesitantly, watching as he remained ready until the woman walked out of the room. "I think he's a _ninja_."


	16. Introductions

****

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

INTRODUCTIONS

Sss979: Okay, so for all of you who think you know who Don was talking to, I ask you this: Why on Earth would Don WANT to talk to him when last they met, the suspected individual was yelling about how Mike was an animal and had no right to be with Rei?? Danger: Well, maybe he changed. Raph sure as hell did. S: Or maybe it wasn't him. Danger: *chuckles quietly* Can't you just for once let the readers be right? Or at least let them THINK they're right? S: *grins evilly* 

Raphael rang the buzzer at the back door of the building. It took a moment for a security guard to answer. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Dr. Catherine Richardson," he answered. "She should be expecting me."

The officer eyed the young man in jeans and a faded black T-shirt under his long trenchcoat. What business did he have here at 8:00 at night?

"I'll let her know you're here," he informed, closing the door again.

Raphael waited patiently, trying to focus his thinking. He had to remember who he was trying to be here. The personality, the attitude, the motive. Be breathed deep, exhaling all that he was and inhaling a totally new character. He looked up again as the door opened again. "John," the woman greeted warmly. "Welcome."

He smiled back. "Hey, what's up? My girlfriend told me you all were tryin' to get ahold of me."

"Yes, we were, actually. Won't you come in?"

He walked through the door and followed her through a hallway to the right, memorizing the path. "My team and I wanted to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

"No problem."

She led him into a conference room and gestured toward the table. "If you'll just sit down, I'll go get them."

Raphael sat down and relaxed slightly as she walked out of the room. Instinctively, he scanned the room for any visible sign of cameras. There was one in the far corner that probably showed the entire room. He allowed only his eyes to move over the room, trying to appear relaxed. It was nearly five minutes before the door opened again. He turned and faced a man in his mid-forties with dark, thinning hair and thick eyeglasses. Like Richardson, he wore a white lab coat with only a black pen in the front pocket. The serious expression on his face was an immediate warning to Raphael. This guy was dedicated, and not what Raph had been hoping for.

"John, this is Chris Rossini, our overseer," Richardson explained as they shook hands.

"Hey," he greeted.

"And this is Paul Lexton."

Raphael turned to a second man. Thirty-six, he immediately guessed. Maybe thirty seven, but no older. His light brown hair was almost blonde. He had his white coat closed, but Raph could see jeans underneath it. He had a friendly smile, but a dark look in his eye. Raph was on guard against it without having to think.

"In case we haven't been formally introduced, I'm Catherine Richardson," the woman continued, closing the door behind her. Raphael sighed inwardly. Was this all he had to work with? So much for plan A. "We also have an intern who works with us; she should be arriving shortly."

"We were wondering if you'd mind answering a few questions for us," Lexton began.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for."

"Does this girlfriend of yours have a name?"

Raphael nodded. "Her name's Mica." No harm in telling them that.

"How old is she?"

"She keeps saying she's, like, seventeen. But I don't think so. I'd guess fourteen or fifteen."

"How long have you known her?"

"Couplea months."

"And how long have you known of her... condition?"

Raphael suppressed a laugh. Condition? "'Bout three weeks."

"What made you decide to come forward with this information?"

Raphael shrugged. "Well, I read about how y'all were tryin' to get a cure for cancer and some shit. So I figured hey, if I can help with that..."

The scientists looked at each other. "But hey," Raphael continued. "One thing though. If y'all are gonna use my help, I wanna see what you're doin'."

"What do you mean?" Rossini questioned.

"Hey, I'll sign your stuff and swear to secrecy; I ain't with the press or nothin'. But I wanna see what it is you do with her."

They all looked at each other. Richardson was the first to find her voice. "John, I don't think that would be in the best interest of Mica or the..."

"Hey, those're my conditions," he mumbled. "You ain't never gonna find her without my help." He smiled as he considered his threat. "And maybe I'll just take her to the press. I'm sure they'd _love _a story like this. Once she's a celebrity, it'd be awful hard for y'all to kidnap her and dissect her."

Lexton chuckled. "That is _not _what we do here."

Raph shrugged. "Well, you ain't gonna _get _her here if the whole country's watching her."

"Are you threatening us?" Rossini questioned.

Raphael laughed. "Nah, man, I wouldn't do that. I'm just lookin' for the best deal, man."

"What, you want money?" Lexton asked.

"No, I want _in_. I wanna see what's goin' on. Whole scientific world knows Matthew Richardson 'causea his books, once he could write 'em without gettin' in trouble with the government people. I want the _science_, man."

Matthew Richardson's daughter hid a smile behind her hand. "You're... interested in science?"

"Aw, yeah, science is cool. I couldn't afford to go to college but it always got my interest."

Catherine didn't have a chance to answer before the door opened and Spirit walked in. Raphael turned and did a double take. What he saw was a thin, tall woman in a short skirt and high leather boots. Her legs seemed to go on forever. She wore a jean jacket and carried a black backpack. Manicured nails, tanned skin, dangling earrings. A black choker around her neck, and blue eye makeup around her green eyes. Her blonde hair was permed and pulled up behind her. Perfect posture, shining lips. Raphael almost fell out of his seat. Jackpot.

She smiled as she noticed his eyes running over her. She could tell he was surprised, and he barely heard her introduction. He wasn't bad looking himself, she quickly decided. In fact, he was kind of a hottie. Very well built, tanned. His sparkling green eyes captivated her immediately, and it was as if she had seen him somewhere before. "So you're John," she greeted, offering her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Believe me," he stammered, "pleasure's mine."

***

"How did it go?"

Raphael tossed the jacket at the coat rack and missed. He let it fall to the floor and flopped down on the couch. "Pretty good," he sighed. "Their intern's got potential."

"Potential for what?"

"Give me a few days and I think I can turn her against them," he informed. "She's plenty loyal to the project. Probably even moreso than Richardson, who was my first thought. But she was giving me looks throughout the entire questioning. She's young and easily manipulated."

Leonardo wasn't sure how he felt about that statement. Raph opened his eyes and glanced at him. "Look, Leo, I'm gonna do whatever I have to do and use whoever I have to use in order to get Donny out of there. Got that?"

Leo nodded. "I understand."

"And she's by far the best target."

"She's attractive?" Leo guessed.

"Hot as hell," Raph answered. "And she knows it."

"Bet that doesn't hurt your matryrdom any."

Raphael glared at him. "_Don't _start, Leo," he warned. "I didn't need to come halfway across the world to get laid. I could've done that in my _own _neighborhood." Leonardo looked away. "And it's just business," Raphael continued. "I don't have any intention of sleeping with her. I mean, it wouldn't hurt you to give me _some _credit."

Leo didn't answer. He'd be willing to bet that before this was over, Raphael would have slept with her. He tried to convince himself that he didn't care. As long as they got Donatello out, he didn't care _what _Raph did.

"Oh, yeah," Raph remembered. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "This was the guy Donny was talking to," he informed, handing it to Leo. "I don't think I've ever seen him before."

Leo unfolded the piece of paper and stared at the black and white printout of a man's head and shoulders. He could see his face clearly, but he knew he didn't recognize him either. "I thought about trying to get into Donny's computer and see who he was e-mailing," Leo mumbled. "But I know there's no way in _hell _I'm gonna get past his security codes."

"Yeah, that's probably a lost cause," Raph agreed.

"I was hoping maybe I'd recognize him, but I don't."

"Oh well," Raphael mumbled. "Probably wouldn't have told us anything anyway. Just a hunch."

Leonardo stood up and handed the picture back to Raph. "I think I'm going to bed," he informed. "I don't know where you've been staying the past few nights, but I don't care if you stay here. You're room's in one piece or you can sleep on the couch. Whatever you prefer."

"'K," Raph answered, studying the picture. "Night."

He stared at the picture for a long time, running through fuzzy memories. He couldn't explain why, but something inside of him told him that he knew this man. He just couldn't place him. He stared, unaware of the minutes as they passed, until he heard a door open.

He glanced first at the clock. It was almost eleven thirty. Then his eyes shot to the source of the interruption. Mica closed her door silently and looked around the dark room. Her purse was over her shoulder and she was dressed up. She was sneaking out. Leo was going to kill her.

"Don't do it."

Mica spun, shocked by the nearness of the voice. She nearly tripped on her high heeled shoes. "Omigod!"

Raphael watched her, arms crossed over his chest. She swallowed hard. He'd have to have a negative IQ to not know what she was doing. But he didn't speak, leaving her to make the next move. "Uh... do what?" she asked.

"Leo know you wear stuff like that?"

She shifted nervously. The dress was a _lot _shorter than Leo would allow, and she knew it. "If he doesn't, he's going to, I gather," she mumbled.

"Did I say that?" he grinned.

She looked up at him. Was he _playing _with her? He studied her figure for a long time, then stood up and walked over to her. "You know something, Mica?"

"What?" she asked nervously.

"You're a _very _pretty girl," he whispered, coming in close. She shrank back, intimidated. "And you're lookin' for trouble to go out dressed like that."

She glared at him and stepped away. "Look, it's not like I'm going to a bar, okay?"

"Who says you're going _anywhere_?" Raphael challenged.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Who says I'm _not_?" she shot back, finding some hidden boldness.

He studied her closely. "I won't stop you Mica," he informed. "You gotta go out and make your own mistakes. But I'm warning you. Any guy who looks at you is gonna see a nice piece of ass and nothing more."

She rolled her eyes. "Jeremy doesn't think of me like that."

"Don't think so?" he challenged.

"No."

He nodded slightly. "And I suppose you're the expert here on the way teenage guys think, right?"

"_Normal _teenage guys, yes," she retorted.

The words cut Raphael, and he stood still, his teeth clenched in quiet anger. "Do you have something else?" Mica asked after a moment of silence. Raph shook his head mutely and she opened the door. "Then good night."

He grabbed her purse as she turned away. Before she even had a chance to react, he had it open. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're...?"

She stopped as he pulled out a sandwich bag. Fear flooded through her, mixed equally with anger. Who did he think he was! She tensed as he held the bag up and stared at it. "What is this?" he demanded.

Her eyes shifted away from him, and she remained silent, clenching her jaw. "Is this coke?" he asked flatly.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

He opened the bag and studied the contents for a moment. He stuck the tip of his finger into the powder and just barely touched it to his tongue. He'd been taught not to do that, of course. But it was a plenty effective test even if it _was _dangerous.

She bit the inside of her lip and kept her eyes on the ground. He studied her for a moment. She wasn't lying. It _wasn't _cocaine. "Dinasty," he announced. "Right?"

"You're a cop. You tell me," she answered coldly.

"Hottest date rape drug since Ecstasy," he mused. "You wanna tell me where you got it?"

"It's not mine."

"I don't care whose it is. Where'd you get it?"

"I was _holding _it for someone."

He nodded slowly. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Look, I _don't do _drugs, okay?" she shot, turning to stare at him straight on. "I do a lot of things but drugs isn't one of them."

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted her. "If they find it on your person, you are looking at jail time. You know what that means?" She shifted her weight and rolled her eyes. "It means you go off to juvie. And what happens when they realize that you're different? It'd only take one strip-search, Mica."

"Oh, _fuck _you, Raph," she laughed. "Do you know how many times I've heard that? I can't have a life because I'm _different_, I gotta walk on eggshells because I'm _different _and I don't wanna _piss _anybody off because they might have some kind of connection with a scientist."

"Why?" he demanded, undeterred.

"Why _what_?"

"Why are you holding drugs for someone? Why take a risk like that?"

"Because they're my _friends_."

"They get busted and they're lookin' at jail time and therapy. _You _get busted and you're lookin' at death by experimentation."

"I _won't _get busted."

"I got news for you, baby, you just did."

"You're outta your jurisdiction," she answered smugly. "You can't arrest me."

"_Sensei _know your friends do drugs?"

She stared at him and slowly realized she'd totally missed his point. "You blackmailing me?"

"No," he answered. "I'm informing you of what I'm going to do."

"And what is that?"

"I think I've already made it clear."

She hesitated for a moment. "You're gonna tell Leo." He nodded once. She glared back at him. "Fine. Tell him. Knock yourself out. He'll lecture me, and I'll agree with him and say I was wrong and we won't talk about it again." 

He sighed, remembering this song and dance. It had been a little different for him, all those years ago. But the attitude was the same. "Look, I don't know what kind of impression you're under about my relationship with Leonardo," she continued angrily. "But he doesn't _like _me and he really doesn't give a damn about me as long as I show up to practice on time. He took me in 'cause my mother went psycho, but he never wanted a kid."

"That's not true," Raph mumbled.

"How the hell would _you _know?"

"Because I know my brother."

Anger exploded inside of her. "Your _brother_?" she cried. "Who the hell _says _he's your brother? You were never related by blood, only by relationship! And you terminated that when you ran off to the other side of the country! Don't tell me how much you know him. I've spent the past fourteen years with him; where the _fuck _were you, _Ryan_?"

Raphael clenched his teeth and said nothing. She reached for the drugs, but he pulled them out of reach. "Fine," she growled. "Keep it. Ain't like we can't get more. Shit's cheap right now."

"We?" he challenged. "I thought you said you didn't use drugs."

"Maybe I lied," she snapped, smiling wickedly.

She spun away and he caught the door before it slammed shut in his face. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"None of your _fucking _business."

"Don't make me follow you."

She turned and glared at him as she walked backward. "Just _try _it, jackass."

"You're gonna get raped," he warned, his voice emotionless. He'd seen this so many times, it wasn't even funny.

She laughed. "You're forgetting, Raphael. I've studied _ninjutsu _my whole fucking life, like it or not."

"Yeah, and you're carrying more than enough drugs in your pocket to knock you on your ass, training or not. Ever try to _fight _when you're _high_?"

"Have _you_?" she shot back.

"I never touched drugs."

"And neither do I."

"But you're around people who do."

"So were you," she reminded him. "Only difference is, I talk to them and you _fucked _them."

He clenched his teeth. The words were as strong as a physical blow. "Which is _exactly_ what somebody's gonna do to you," he forced himself to answer.

"I told you, I don't _do _drugs."

"Not _willingly_," he agreed.

"What," she laughed, "you think someone can _make _me?"

He stared at her. Was she _really _as naive as she sounded? "Yes, I do."

"That what _you _did?"

"No," he answered coldly.

She snickered quietly. "Don't wait up."

"Mica..." he called after her. "I'm warning you."

She flipped him off as she walked away.

***

The music pulsed around her as she raised the drink to her lips slowly. The colors swirled on the walls and the house itself seemed alive. The air held a patently bad scent- a blend of alcohol, sweat, cigarettes, and pot. Mica looked around for any sign of Jeremy. As much as she wanted to be a part of this, she was bored and she didn't really know anyone here. She was ready to leave.

"Mica!"

She turned as a familiar voice called her name. "Dinah," she greeted with a smile. "I didn't see you here."

Dinah laughed. "This party is dying," she informed. "We gotta get it moving again."

Mica smiled. "What'd you have in mind?"

She smiled mysteriously and shrugged. "I dunno." She glanced around. "Where's Jeremy?"

Mica took another sip of her drink. She had passed the point where she'd developed a slight headache. She was buzzed and she knew it. In a way, it made her feel better. She was new to the concept of socializing. Leo-_sensei_ had kept her secluded throughout her entire life. The alcohol mellowed her out, helped her to _not _think. Her whole life, she'd been trained to be suspicious of everyone, and Raphael's words didn't help ease her.

"I dunno," she mumbled. "I haven't seen him in, like, forever."

Dinah grinned. "I got an idea how we could kill two birds with one stone. If you think you're up to it."

Mica crossed her arms over her chest, careful not to spill her drink. "If I'm _up _to it?" she grinned. "That a dare?"

Dinah considered that for a moment. "Yeah," she smiled. "It's a dare."

"Bring it on," Mica challenged.

***

Jeremy looked up as the lights died all at once, as if they had blown a fuse. But the lights to the hallway, the one overlooking the living room, were still on. At the three inch railing, with no one near her, Mica was facing the crowd. She rocked her hips and kicked her legs up in time with the beats of the music. She somehow managed to maneuver her body so that she was sitting on the railing, her legs stretched out in front of her.

She leaned back and reached along the railing until she was lying down completely. She pressed her back to the railing and tipped her head back, running her fingers through her hair. Her back arched slightly, not enough to make her lose her balance, and she rose one leg, resting her shin on her opposite knee. Balancing perfectly, she arched further and sat up. She swung her legs to the side, over the living room instead of the hall. She perched carefully on the balls of her feet, resting on an inch of ledge.

Gripping the ledge behind her, she kicked both legs forward and immediately tensed the muscles in her arms, locking her elbows. She swung out over the crowd, then back, bringing her straightened legs close to her chest. She threw her weight to one arm and swung her legs around her and then straight up, her toes pointing to the ceiling. The skirt was tight enough that it didn't come up around her waist. But it seriously limited the movements she could make. She'd studied gymnastics most of her life, and the beam had always been her favorite, but she'd never tried it in clothes like this. At least not outside of a practiced combat sequence.

She brought her legs down on either side of the rail and Jeremy watched as the skirt rode nearly to her hip. She didn't seem to notice. She rolled her shoulders and his eyes followed her graceful arm movements. She swung around again to stand on the balcony. 

His eyes were glued as she finished out the song in a dance that was more than a little provocative and ended, feet firmly planted on the floor and spread, her head down and hair hiding her face. A loud cheer rose from the crowd around him. He smiled to himself as she stepped back and took an exaggerated bow. Then he turned back to his conversation, leaving her to her drinking and new-found friends.

He did eventually catch up with her. But by that time, she was in no condition to discuss where she'd learned those moves. "You okay, baby?"

Mica moaned softly as the world spun around her. She'd been fine up until about five minutes ago. "I think... I don't know..." she slurred. "Maybe I... drank too much."

"You didn't drink hardly at all, sweetheart."

"Mmm," she acknowledged. "My..." The thoughts faded. "I... wanna go home... Jeremy."

He laughed quietly. "But baby, you just got here."

Did she? It seemed like she had been here for quite some time now. But maybe... Well, he was the one who was sober. He'd know better than she did. She leaned against him for support as her legs threatened to give out from underneath her. "Home..."

Jeremy brushed her hair away from her face and watched as she swooned. "Baby, if you go home smashed, you're never gonna hear the end of it. You know that."

_But if I don't come home at all..._ The thoughts faded. The steady beats of the music pounded in her head and she let them overtake her. "... stay here... to relax..." The vaguely familiar voice brought no emotion. Sighed contentedly as she felt a strong arm circle her shoulders and lead her on a path she couldn't really see.

The room was dark. Jeremy lit a candle rather than turning the light on, and closed the door behind him. Mica leaned back against the wall, moaning slightly as her eyes slid shut. "Can you hear me, baby?"

"Mmm hmm..."

"Why don't you lay down?"


	17. Unheeded Words

****

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

UNHEEDED WORDS

Raphael's eyes opened as he heard the front door close. He looked first to the clock and saw that it was almost six. Then he sat up slowly. She noticed him immediately. She didn't speak. She didn't want to have to explain. And what was the point? He already knew. He knew before she left that this would happen.

He sighed deeply. He'd never been on _this _side of the situation, and he wasn't totally sure what to say to her. After a long pause, he stood up. No words were exchanged between them as he approached her. When he was still a few feet away, she ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing loudly. "He..."

"I know."

She felt like her legs were going to fall out from under her. What would he do, if she collapsed? Would he carry her to bed or would he leave her here, on the floor? "I just wanted to be part of something outside of these four walls," she sobbed. "All my life, that's all I wanted. I wanted friends, I wanted to be normal, I wanted... a life!"

The words struck Raphael. They were so familiar, somehow. Memories flooded back to him as he realized where he'd heard them.

_The quiet crying from the top bunk ended any thoughts of sleep Raphael he might have had. "Mikey, you okay?"_

There was a moment of silence. "You ever just... lay in bed at night and wonder? Wonder what it would be like to... have someone sleeping next to you or know you have to get up and go to school or to work in the morning?" Raphael remained silent, considering the words seriously. "You ever think what it'd be like just to... talk to people? To dance? To walk around the streets in broad daylight and do things like they do?"

"Yeah," Raph admitted.

Michaelangelo brushed his eyes roughly. "I just wanna be normal. You know? I mean... why's that so much to ask? I just want to be part of something outside of these four walls."

Raphael ran his hands up and down her back gently. "You don't want that kinda life, babe," he sympathized.

He let her cry for a few minutes until she finally pulled away. "I'm so sorry, Raphael," she choked.

"For what?" he asked.

"For those things I said," she cried. "When I woke up... and I knew you were right. I should have listened to you. I'm so sorry."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "It's okay," he assured her.

She turned her face into his neck and allowed the warmth and strength of his body to envelope her. For a moment, she just wanted to feel safe. And she felt that, with him. Whether she liked him or not was irrelevent. She knew she could trust him, and that he would keep her safe as long as she would _let _him.

"You should go to the police," he advised. "So they can arrest the guy."

She laughed cynically through her tears. "I... no. For one thing, the cops hate me. They won't believe me. Not when it was my boyfriend anyhow."

Raphael felt anger well up inside of him. He had half a mind to kill the guy. "That's not true."

"They'll say I'm just doing it for attention. They don't care, Raph."

"I'll take you to the hospital and they can..."

"No," she protested quietly. She put his palms on his chest. "I already cleaned up, Raph, and I really don't wanna go." 

He sighed. "They can still..."

"Look, what I did was stupid," she interrupted. "But _I _did it. I ignored the warning, I did it anyways, and I paid for it."

"Mica, you're the victim here. It's not your fault."

"I don't care whose fault it is, I just wanna let it go."

"He'll do it again," he informed her. "I guarantee you that he'll do it again to someone else."

She shook her head slightly and stared down at the floor. "Raph, how can I go to the hospital when the first thing they're gonna ask me to do is take off my clothes?"

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed as he looked away. Neither of them spoke for a moment, then she looked up at him. "You're not gonna tell Leo, are you?" she whispered. He didn't answer and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please don't," she begged. "I know I was wrong and I think I paid for it enough. I don't need a lecture to go on top of it."

"He wouldn't lecture you," Raphael mumbled. "Not after what you've been through."

"Yes, he would," she sighed. "He'd lecture me and then he'd go hunt down the guys who did it and probably kill them."

He nodded slowly as he considered that. "And what makes you think I _won't_?"

"Because I've asked you to just let it go?" she pleaded, gazing through her lashes at him.

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "Alright," he agreed. "I won't tell him."

"Not even if he asks?"

He shook his head. "Not even if he asks."

She hugged him again. "Thanks, Raphael. I don't know how I can repay you."

"Well, you could _start _by being up front with me from now on," he suggested. "And maybe _listening _to me when I tell you stuff."

"What do you mean?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I mean knock it off with the mindgames. Stop inadvertedly lying to me." She looked away. "I'm on your side, Mica. Otherwise I never would've come all the way out here."

She studied him for a moment. She wasn't sure he realized what he was asking her to do. To trust him like that, when he'd abandoned her. What was to keep him from doing it again? The thought struck her. When this was over, he'd be on his way back to Vegas. They both knew that, even if they hadn't addressed it. And he wanted her to trust him?

"Why did you leave in the first place?" she asked, searching his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to hear that he had a good reason, that it wasn't just because when he got his "freedom", he ran with it, leaving his family behind.

She watched as he looked away. After a moment of silent, he turned back to her. "You wanna go for a drink?"

She smiled weakly. "I'm _fourteen _Raphael."

He grinned back. "I thought you said you were twenty three."

"_I _never said that," she laughed, wiping the tears out of her eyes.

"Yes you did!" he laughed putting his arm around her shoulders, leading her to the door. She hesitated and he looked at her. "What?"

She bit her lip. "Do you think... I should change first?" she asked.

"Do you want to?"

"Yeah."

"Then go ahead. I'll wait."

***

"Do you go to school?" Raphael asked.

Mica sipped the glass of Mountain Dew slowly and looked around the restaurant. "I... did," she answered after a moment's hesitation. "For a few months when I was twelve. Mostly, I've been schooled at home."

"Why'd you quit?"

She sighed. "Leonardo-sensei didn't think it was safe. I mean, since I'm... different, you know."

Raph watched a couple walk in and stand by the door, waiting for the hostess. "And yet he approved of your boyfriend," he mumbled.

"He knew Jeremy," she informed. "And Jeremy knew about us. He actually was interested in the martial arts for a while, but _Sensei_ wouldn't teach him."

Raph nodded slightly. That made him a significant threat now. "Why not?" he questioned.

"I dunno. Said he didn't have the dicipline or something like that."

Raphael could believe that. "_Ninjutsu_ isn't something you teach by the class," he agreed. "Most people do a lot better in something like _Tae Kwon Do_, where they can measure their success by belts and stop taking it if they don't feel like doing it anymore."

Mica smiled. "Yeah, that's pretty much what _Sensei _says, too."

Raph nodded. "Listen to him. He's right. And one other thing."

"What?"

"When you're talking to me and he's not around, could you just call him Leo? I promise I won't tell on you. But you're gonna drive me crazy with this _sensei_ crap."

She laughed quietly. "Okay. I'll try to remember."

"Thanks."

Raphael watched the couple as they were led to a table. It was instinctive to watch everything. He'd been doing it his whole life. It made him nervous when he _couldn't _watch his surroundings. "So Leo keep you under lock and key?" he questioned.

She smiled. "Uh, he tries. Yeah."

"I figured," he grinned. "He doesn't seem like he's changed much over the years."

"Well, lately I've... been going out a lot more. Even if he doesn't like it. I think he realizes he can't stop me so he just looks the other way." She sipped her drink slowly. "I really... don't think he knows what to do with me. He never did."

He didn't answer. Mica studied him for a moment. "Did you guys always fight like... you do?"

Raphael raised his coffee to his lips. "We fought a lot," he confirmed. "We had our good days and our bad days, you know? As long as he left me alone, we usually did okay."

"Left you alone how?" she questioned. "What do you mean?"

"I went out a lot," he answered. "And he didn't like that. I drank, slept around... it drove him up the wall."

She stared at him. "That was _before _the... uh... change?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I'd find them drunk or high. I was an asshole."

She smiled faintly at his honesty. She already knew that, but it was different to hear him say it. "Ever have a _real_ girlfriend?" she questioned. 

"Yeah," he mumbled, taking another drink. "Once. Jessica."

That was something she didn't know. "What happened to her?"

"I broke up with her," he shrugged. "She... wasn't ready to commit to someone like me and I didn't really blame her. It got to be kinda fire and ice. The sex was great, but we didn't really love each other and that caused all kinds of problems."

She stared at him, somewhat surprised. She wasn't used talking to someone who was so blunt. Leo-sama would never say anything like that to her. "I don't know," he shrugged. "Sometimes I regretted it. We still talked for a while. It wasn't a messy breakup."

She looked down at the table. "Well, I've only had one boyfriend and it just ended in a _very _messy breakup."

Raphael was quiet for a moment as his mind played back the conversation. "I wouldn't doubt that Leo doesn't know what to do with you," he mumbled. "I don't think he's ever really _talked _to a teenage girl, much less tried to raise one. Unless Rei counts, I guess."

She nodded slightly. "My mother," she whispered.

He studied her for a moment. "Yes. Your mother. But you gotta cut Leo a break. I think, all things considering, he's not doing too bad a job."

She nodded again. "He's a good teacher," she agreed.

She stared down into her drink and a shadowed look crossed her face. Raphael watched her for a moment as her gloved fingers traced designs in the condensation on the outside of her glass. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

She sighed deeply and slowly raised her eyes to his. "I was just thinking..." She looked away. "You know, he _is_. He _is _a good teacher. And he's taught me so much. I mean, him and Donny... are my world. And he'll teach me anything, tell me anything... as long as it doesn't have anything to do with my parents." She glanced back at him. "I mean, I didn't really even know anything about _you _except that he hated you for leaving. And he was always comparing me to you when I did stupid stuff."

Raphael grinned and considered that for a moment. "Well, what do you wanna know?" he finally asked.

"About my parents?"

"About anything," he shrugged. "Anything I could tell you, at least."

She stared at him for a moment, not sure she trusted his openness. But then, he'd been pretty honest with her so far. Maybe he'd actually tell her the things she was dying to know. The only thing she really knew about her father was how he'd died. "What was he like?" she questioned hesitantly.

"Your father?"

"Yes."

Raphael stared down at the table for a long time, organizing his thoughts. "Happy," he finally answered. "Kind of a prankster. Real easy going and... I don't know, Mica, I could go on forever."

She thought about that for a moment. "What about my mother?"

He breathed deep. "Well... do you know how they met?"

She shook her head. "_Sen..._ Leo won't talk about any of this."

Raph sighed. "Well, her father and our _Sensei_ had been friends in Japan."

"Splinter, right?"

"Yeah," Raphael nodded. "Well, he was Yoshi in Japan. And he was human."

"Yeah, Leonardo told me that."

"Well, her father sent her and her brother to live here with us, thinking that Splinter was still human."

"Why?"

"Why'd he send them?"

"Yeah."

"Well, because your _Uncle _Yukio was a real jackass. He was a _ninja _and he killed a _sensei_ from another clan and so all of the _sensei's_ students were looking to kill him." Raphael sighed. "I don't remember how it all played out, but the father knew he was in danger or he _thought _he was, and he wanted to make sure his children were safe. So he sent them to America and then he committed ritual suicide."

"So they came thinking you guys were human?"

Raphael nodded. "Yeah, it was a bit of a shock. Yukio totally flipped out. He was very prejudice from the start but Rei somehow fell in love with Mike, who was very depressed at the time."

"I thought you said he was happy," she reminded him, confused.

"He usually was. But shit happens, you know?" He studied the table as he debated how much he wanted to tell her. "A friend of ours died and he blamed himself. So for a while there he was... different."

She considered that for a minute. "So you don't really know, like, how they fell in love though?"

He shrugged. "I know Mike's side of it. He didn't know what hit him." He chuckled as he considered that. "One minute he's refusing to even go meet her and the next minute he's rolling around in bed with her."

She thought about that. "Was he, like, a womanizer?"

"Mike?" he laughed. "Oh, _hell _no. He had a couple crushes before he met Rei but she was the only one he ever slept with."

"How do you know?" she challenged.

He smiled mysteriously at her. "I know," he assured. "He was my best friend; he told me everything."

"Really?" she questioned, enamored by the idea.

He nodded. "He was the only one I could ever really level with," he explained. "I mean, he just... understood better. Didn't judge me, I guess is what made him different. He knew everything about me and he didn't always _agree _with me but I always knew... He was trustworthy. With anything. It didn't matter what."

"So did you guys... do a lot of stuff together?"

Raph sighed. "Not as much as you'd think," he answered. "Mikey didn't like to break the rules most of the time. I didn't mind an all out war with Leo if it meant I'd get out the door and get laid." She smiled and waited for him to continue. "But he, uh... We did talk a lot. I kinda learned to... adapt to my world. I took what I could get and when I couldn't get it, I got pissed off. But he could never... lower his standards like that. He was willing to wait for what he wanted. And that was your mother."

Her eyes dropped. For a moment, she didn't speak. "She left me almost as soon as she had me," she mumbled. "I've tried to contact her but... I guess it just hurts her too much to talk to me. I don't know. I try not to get bitter."

Raphael studied the girl for a moment, then looked away. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Then she looked to him again. "Why did you leave us?" she finally asked.

Raph swallowed hard. He'd been expecting that question, and he'd thought of all the possible ways to answer it. Still, he hadn't settled on _one _excuse. He looked up and met her eyes. "I don't know," he told her seriously. "I guess it was just instinct. I thought a lot of things in those few hours, but I'll tell you this much: It had _nothing _to do with wanting to go out and live it up."

She sighed. "I guess I wouldn't blame you, you know?" she mumbled. "I mean... I'm not as noticeable as Leonardo or Donny by a _long _shot. It's on my back and my skin coloring, you know. Makes it so I can't... wear shorts or skirts without makeup and nylons. And I can't go swimming or go anywhere that I might get my face wet. And I gotta wear the gloves. It just..."

"It's a pain in the ass," Raph mumbled. "I know."

"If I could change..."

"No," Raphael sighed. "Don't even say it." He stared at her. "Believe me, it's not worth it."

She laughed quietly. "You're one to talk."

"You think I would've done this willingly?" he challenged.

"You didn't?" she replied.

"_Hell_ no!" he cried. "What, are you _nuts_?"

"You talked about it. With my father."

He studied her for a minute, stunned by her words. "How do you know that?" he finally managed.

"_Sensei _told me."

He shook his head slowly. "It wasn't like that," he mumbled. "If he heard that, he didn't hear the whole story."

"What's the whole story?" she asked.

He sighed. "It was hard, Mica. I ain't gonna lie to you. And I vented at and to different people." He looked away. "But when it came right down to it... Mike asked me once if it would be worth it, to lose my identity in order to become human, and I told him I didn't know. I didn't then, but I do now. And believe me..." He looked back at her. He could feel the emotion building inside of him and he instinctively tried to fight it. It burned the back of his eyes with bitter tears and he blinked back the pain that wanted so badly to surface. 

"I lost my brother," he whispered. He hesitated for a moment, choking on his own voice. "My best friend. I watched him suffer. I..." He looked away again, shaking his head as he struggled for words. "I heard him scream. I got his blood all over my hands. I saw him..." He closed his eyes for a moment and waited for the feelings to subside. He had too much pride to cry in front of her, but he knew he had to stop talking if he was going to hold back the tears. 

"_Nothing_ is worth that," he finally managed. "Not even life itself. I would have given _anything _to take his place."

Mica studied him for a moment, and nodded cutting her eyes down. She could tell it hurt him to say all that. And she could tell he meant every word of it.


	18. Living Specimen

****

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LIVING SPECIMEN

This is short. Sorry guys. (Well, not really. But I'll pretend to be sorry if it'll make you feel better.)

"You mean you got another one here?" Raphael asked, feigning shock. It had been almost three weeks now, and he was finally getting to the point with these damned scientists. After plenty of talking and beating around the bush, they were letting him into the rest of the building. "How'd you capture it?"

"Well, that's kind of complicated," Dr. Richardson laughed.

"You must understand that due to the nature of these experiments, there are things which you won't need to know," Dr. Rossini explained.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Raph mumbled. He felt like he'd just signed his life away. Fifteen pages of non-disclosure agreements. Somehow they didn't doubt that they would try to kill him if he ever _broke _that agreement.

He followed them through the bright white halls and into a large room. Metal tables were lined with scientific equipment: microscopes, beakers, racks of vials, and plenty of paperwork. Spirit looked up as they entered and smiled at him. "Good morning, John," she greeted.

Her lab coat was longer than her skirt. She walked over to him. "Afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to put this on," she informed, handing him a paper mask.

"What for?" he asked.

Catherine took the mask and helped to tie it around his head. "Just a percaution," she explained. "We're dealing with a lot of active viruses in here and we don't want you to catch any of them. This should reduce that risk."

"We also have an innoculation that you'll need to get if you're going to be in here," Lexton added. "I'll get that for you in just a minute."

Raphael tensed. "Oh, woah, man... I kinda got a... thing with needles."

"It's just a little poke," Spirit smiled. "And it means you won't have to wear that mask after twenty four hours."

He wasn't comforted. He didn't want anything to do with these guys' needles. Catherine walked to the table where Spirit had been working. Rossini followed her and Lexton headed for the opposite corner of the room. "If it makes you feel any better," Spirit whispered. "I'll do it myself."

Oh damn it. Step out of character or take a risk with the needle. Not much of a choice. He forced a very convincing smile. "You sure you're qualified to do that?" he teased.

"Hey, I'm a med student," she grinned. "They teach you that in your first year."

"Okay then."

"Come right over here."

She slipped her hand into his and led him to a black leather chair with arm rests. "Just sit down there and relax," she cooed.

He complied. Damn, she was _easy_. He'd hardly _said _anything to her and she was already coming on hard. He wasn't sure he liked it. Not that he minded flirting, but it almost seemed forced. For a moment, she had to wonder if she was like this with everyone or if _she _had her eye on _him_. He didn't want his own trick to backfire on him.

She rubbed the inside of his wrist gently, and smiled up at him as Dr. Lexton set the syringe and tiny needle down next to her. Raphael eyed it suspiciously. He didn't trust her as far as he could throw her, despite his smile. That needle wasn't supposed to go in his wrist, he knew. It was too short. It was the kind that they used to give immunizations, and it belonged in his upper arm. 

She massaged her way up to his bicep, raising his shirt sleeve. "This might sting a little," she warned.

He felt the needle puncture his skin and remembered to cringe. He had to measure his reaction. He wanted it to look like he was hurt, but not willing to show it. He was, after all, trying to impress her. Crying over a needle would've defeated the whole purpose of the acting.

"There," she smiled. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He grinned back at her, although she couldn't see it through the mask. "I have to ask, Doctor," he began. "How old are you?"

She giggled. "Nurse," she corrected. "I'm an RN. Although I'm _working _toward my doctorate. And I'm twenty-five. You?"

He laughed. "We're two years apart," he informed her. "But whether I'm older or younger can be yours to decide."

"Spirit, did you record the eleven o'clock?"

The woman stood and turned away. "Yeah, but I didn't chart it yet. I put it straight into the computer."

Rossini looked up from the clipboard in his hand. "Did you redraw the progressional?"

"Yeah, I did. Printout is at the computer."

Raphael stood up. He felt lost in here. He followed behind Spirit as discreetly as possible. "What is that?" he asked, looking over her shoulder at the computer printout she retrieved.

"Vital signs," she informed. "For the past hour." She began to point out the various lines. "Blood pressure, heart rate, breathing. Then this is the results of the blood test." She flipped to the second page. "We do this every two hours. "White blood cell count, red, hemoglobin."

"Is it supposed to be that high?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she answered. "That means the specimen has a healthy immune system."

She handed the pages over to Rossini and he glanced over them. "Any chance I'll ever get to _see _this specimen?" Raph joked.

Spirit laughed. "Maybe."

Maybe not. Raphael wandered around the room for the next three hours. Spirit was the only one who made an attempt to explain things to him. He didn't catch most of it anyway. Science wasn't his thing, and he knew it. But he knew from the readouts that Donny was at least _alive_.

He took notes, fully aware that Rossini would have to look over them before he could ever take them out of the building. It was nothing really important. Times and numbers that he might allegedly write about someday. But he watched the minutes pass knowing that he only had one purpose here.

It was almost six o'clock before the end was in sight. "Spirit, why don't you go run the six on B," Richardson directed. "And take John with you."

Raphael glanced at her, his ears perking at the suggestion. He was leaving the room and "running the six" whatever the hell that meant. Every two hours... The scheduled blood test? That had to be it. He sighed inwardly and began the process of preparing himself. He had to be ready to look at his brother with no recognition at all, and no sign of emotion.

Spirit winked at him as she walked past and he followed her out of the room. "So where's B?" he asked.

"Not far," she assured him. "We're having to monitor him very closely because of the nature of his condition."

Raphael hoped that didn't mean what he thought it did. "What, is he not doing well?"

"No, it's not that," she smiled. "He's doing very well in fact. We're most pleased with the results."

She walked into another room, turning the handle without unlocking it. He stared as they stepped inside and she walked up to the curtain that was pulled a few feet in front of them. Not much in the way of security...

She pulled the curtain aside and revealed a bed with a still, mutant figure on it, hooked to tubes and monitors. Raphael felt his heart stop. He nearly collapsed as his lungs suddenly decided they weren't going to function anymore.

It wasn't Donatello.

It was a baby. 


	19. A Date With Death

****

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A DATE WITH DEATH

"Are you okay?"

Raphael's eyes were glued to the infant on the bed. Maybe it wasn't _even _an infant. It was the tiniest baby he'd ever seen. It was lying in an enclosed area, separated from the rest of the world. "I'm sorry," Spirit sighed. "I should've warned you."

He took a step closer to the child, his jaw hanging open. He had _not _expected this. "Is it...?"

"Alive? Yes. And doing remarkably well."

He turned and stared at her. "How did you...?"

She smiled knowingly. "Simple. In theory, at least. We took DNA from the mutant and spliced it, if you will, with that of a prematurely delivered baby. One whose cellular structure hadn't totally formed yet."

"How young was the baby?" he asked.

"Twenty-three weeks." His eyes widened and she laughed. "I know. That's early. But it was exactly what we were looking for. We were contacted by the neo-natal intensive care, with the permission of the mother, to try to keep the baby alive using a recently developed... artificial womb."

"She let you take her baby?" he questioned, awestruck.

"The baby would have died without our technology. There's no doubt about that. She handed him over in the hopes that we could keep him alive. Which we did."

He looked down at the infant, unable to speak. "How old is he now?"

"That's what's so strange," she mumbled. "Once we altered its DNA, it began to progress at an incredible rate. We took it... out of the womb, just yesterday."

"At twenty five weeks," he whispered.

"But it's progressed in two and a half weeks as fast as it might have in two and a half _months _without the treatment."

He stared at her, not sure what else to say. He was too shocked to speak, and he knew he needed to get out of there before he stepped out of character. She smiled sympathetically. "You look so surprised. I'm sorry."

He shook his head slightly, his mind still racing. He hardly even noticed the way she was studying him. "You have pretty eyes," she whispered. "So deep."

He tensed slightly as her hand raised to the side of his face and carressed his cheek lightly. He had very little warning as she stepped closer and kissed him, claiming his mouth in a deep kiss. The situation swam into focus as he kissed her back - purely a reflex action. 

He suddenly realized how close he was to the point of having her, totally and completely, and it shocked him. _God_, she was easy! Her desire was evident. He just needed to get to know her better, to play off her emotions. 

Once he got into her heart, he knew she'd help him do anything. Even to look the other way while he got Donny out of here. But he had to move this fast, and he knew it. There was no time for foreplay. He had to get this relationship to its height _before_ his brother was dead. He felt his body react as she reached between them and ran her fingers lightly over the front of his jeans. Maybe this was a little too fast...

He pulled away gently, and took her wrist. Too much passion in her, not enough emotion. She wasn't in love; she only wanted his body. And he wasn't about to give her that satisfaction. If he did, he'd _never _get what he wanted. He was fully confident in his ability to impress her in bed, but he knew that wouldn't make her love him. And _that's _what he needed. 

He lowered his head, keeping his eyes locked with hers. He flashed her a smile and waited to see if she would make the next move. "Hey, I'll be done here in a few minutes," she whispered seductively. "You wanna go out for a drink?"

No. That was wrong. Close, but it was still wrong. "No," he answered quietly. "I need to get home." 

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the baby breathe. God, that was a _life_. He looked away from it again. He couldn't think about that. He _couldn't_. "How about tomorrow night?" he offered. "You don't have to work on Saturday, do you?"

She grinned. "No."

"Then let me take you out," he suggested, forcing a smile. "For a _real _date."

***

Raphael watched from the doorway as Mica ran through the _kata _at full speed. If she knew he was there, she didn't show it. He didn't mind. He wasn't in the mood for conversation anyways.

He'd never seen the exercise before, but he knew all the moves. When her hand dropped to her belt, he knew what she was reaching for. "You're doing it wrong."

The words startled her. She let go way too soon as she was turning. The throwing star whistled through the air toward Raphael. He saw it coming, and had plenty of time to prepare. He watched its rotation, and clapped his hands on either side of it just before it came into contact with his chest. It was reflexes, more than anything. In the week that he had been working to regain his skills, they had flooded back to him at an amazing pace. He'd never actually stopped living the martial arts. He just hadn't done any serious training in quite some time.

Mica gasped. "Oh, god, I could've _killed _you!"

Raphael smiled. "S'okay. I'm used to it." 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you _mean _I'm doing it wrong? That's how Leo _taught _me."

"Yeah, well, Leo doesn't have five fingers, now does he?"

That silenced her.

Raph flipped the _shaken _like a coin, caught it between his fingers, and tossed it effortlessly at the target. It landed just inside the center circle. "_That's_ how you do it," he grinned.

Her jaw dropped as he turned away. "Uh, wait!" He glanced over his shoulder at her and she suddenly lost the power of speech. "I mean... I..."

He smiled knowingly. "You want me to teach you?" he suggested.

She nodded slightly. "I mean... would you?"

He walked back into the dojo and kicked off his shoes before he stepped on the mat. "Difference is in the way you're holding it," he instructed her, yanking the black star out of the board. "Don't use your thumb at all. Here, give me your hand."

She held out her hand, palm up, and he placed the pointed star between the tips of her fingers. "God, that's high," she mumbled.

"More control," he explained. "Don't hold it close to your palm."

"But then how do you get the force?"

"That should all be in your arm anyhow. Your wrist just guides it."

He stood behind her, his hand over hers. He extended her arm slowly, then brought it back in. "It's all about timing," he mumbled. "You want to let go in the fraction of a second before your arm is fully extended."

"Yeah, that's what Leo said."

"Well, for once, he's right."

She laughed.

"Okay, let go of the _shaken_ but keep your fingers against mine."

He took the throwing star between his fingers and her arm moved with his as he threw it to the target. "Got another one?" he asked. She pulled a second star from her belt. "Okay, you do it now."

She threw it and it landed on the outskirts of the circle. It was a bad throw, but she immediately realized the difference in control. She stared at it for a moment, then turned to Raphael. "Where are you going, all dressed up?" she asked, her eyes running over the dress shirt and tie.

"I uh," he started. "I got something to do."

"Some_thing _or some_one_?" she smiled knowingly.

"Oh, you think you know me so well, don't you?" he smirked, swatting at her playfully.

Mica ducked away, giggling. "So what's her name? Amanda? Caroline?"

"Spirit."

Mica laughed. "Spirit? Good god, is she a hooker or a dachsund?"

"Very funny."

"Yeah, I thought so," Mica grinned, resting her hands on her hips. "Seriously, though..." she grinned. Raph prepared himself, knowing she was about to ask him something she would _dare _ask in Leo's presence. "You ever sleep with a hooker?"

He felt his face warm slightly. "No," he answered.

She laughed. "You _liar_!" She pushed him backward and he stumbled a few feet before regaining his balance.

"No, really," he protested, trying to stay serious. "I haven't. I have never _slept _with a hooker."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, have you ever _fucked _a hooker?"

He cocked his head just slightly and smiled. "Prostitution is legal in Las Vegas," he informed her.

"You ass," she laughed, turning away from him. She walked to the circular board and grabbed the throwing stars.

"Seriously, though, I haven't," he answered. The embarrassment of being asked that question had faded. "Not knowingly, anyway. Let me put it this way: I never paid for sex."

She turned to look at him and immediately determined that he wasn't lying. He'd just been playing with her. "Never felt the need?" she joked.

He shrugged and adopted a familiar, cocky smile. "Never got that desperate."

"So I guess this 'Spirit' is the first, then, huh?"

Raphael sighed. "She's not a hooker. She's a scientist. And I don't have any intention of sleeping with her."

"No, just fucking her," Mica corrected.

Raph smiled and shook his head. "No. These guys are trying to kill my brothers; I don't have time for a fling."

Mica's eyes widened. "Spirit's a _guy_?" she cried in mock horror.

Raph crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, you're lucky I'm dressed up or I'd have to beat the crap out of you right about now."

She smiled and blew him a kiss. "See ya later, hottie. Have fun."

He shook his head slightly as he turned away. She was so much like her father it was _scary_. She paused as he walked out the door, and turned to him. "Raphael?"

He stopped and spun back to face her, raising an eyebrow in question. For a moment, she wasn't sure why she'd called him back. She sighed as she looked him over. "You're gonna come back, right?"

He studied her for a moment, then took a few steps forward. "Of course I am," he answered. "Why would you ask that?"

"You promise?"

He nodded. "I promise."

She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "When you go back to Vegas, are you going to keep in touch?"

He considered that for a moment as he hugged her back. "_If _I go back to Vegas, yes. Of course."

She pulled away and brushed her fingers over the side of his face. "Your makeup's smeared."

He sighed. "Of course it is."

"Why do you wear it?"

He grinned. "Ordinarily, I don't. But when impersonating someone who looks nothing like me..."

She smiled. "Oh, okay. I get it." She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Be careful, okay?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Leonardo caught him as he was on his way out the door. "Where are you going?"

Raphael looked up and met his brother's cold stare. "What, are we fifteen again?" he answered simply. "I'm gonna go meet with Spirit and try and get Donny out. That okay with you?"

"You know, we can't just keep waiting for you to make some kind of move here," Leo shot. "They're gonna end up killing him, if they haven't already."

Raph sighed. "I'm doing the best I can."

"And expecting me to sit here and do nothing, right?"

"There's nothing you can _do_ right now, Leo," Raphael reminded him. "I'm not going to allow you to go and get yourself killed because..."

"You're not going to _allow_ me?" Leonardo cried. "Just who do you think you are, Raphael? You've got no right to be here, telling me what I can and can't do!"

Raphael hid his eyes behind his hand. This was eerily familiar, and yet at the same time, it wasn't. He sighed as he lowered his hand again and shook his head at his brother. "What happened to you, Leo?" he wondered out loud. "You're so bitter and angry that you don't even think anymore."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "How _dare _you..."

"Leo..." Raphael half-laughed, not even sure what to say. He was right, and shocked by his realization. He looked away for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. Finally, he looked back. "Is it me?"

Leonardo didn't answer. His face remained expressionless and Raphael sighed as he got his answer. He dropped his eyes and sighed deeply. For a long time, it was silent. Then Raph looked back up, and studied his brother. Neither of them spoke as memories flooded back to them.

"You remember... how we used to fight all the time?" Raphael started quietly. Leo didn't answer. It was obvious that no answer was needed. "I was... so angry at the world and you were just... the available target." Raph looked away again, considering that. Leo didn't speak, although he almost wished he would. Finally, he looked back up and met the ice cold stare. "But even through all of those things I said, and all those things I did... dammit, Leo, you gotta know I always loved you. This whole family." 

No response. Raphael sighed and shook his head in a mix of disbelief and just plain giving up. He sighed. "I didn't run out on you, Leo," he informed, emotionless. "When I left, I was running away from something that hurt. It had nothing to do with you."

"I could care less why you left, Raph," Leonardo shot back.

"Then why did it change you so much?" Raphael demanded, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. "What the hell happened to you? You nothing like the leader I remember. You're bitter, you're angry... so full of hate and confusion that you can't see what's right in front of you."

Leo's eyes narrowed as he glared at him. "And what's that?"

"That I've put my life on hold for you. And I jeopardized everything I've worked for in order to try... just _try _to get Donny out of there alive."

Leo looked away. "You want me to _thank_ you?" he snapped.

"What are you gonna do if he's dead?" Raphael asked. Leonardo's eyes slid closed. He didn't want to think about that. "What are you gonna do when I'm the only thing in the world that you've got? You still gonna hate me?" Leo didn't answer. "I said I'm sorry. And if I didn't, I'm saying it now. And you better make a decision right now to forgive me. Because if he doesn't make it, I _will _be the only thing you've got."

Leonardo's eyes slid closed as bitter hurt pierced through him. Raphael didn't know. He had no _idea_ what he'd put them through. They might have still been living in peace if he hadn't gone with that damned scientist, fifteen years ago. Regardless of what he said, Leo's own testimony matched with the public reports. The bartender's account of Raphael leaving with an unfamiliar man was witness enough. He'd tried so hard not to believe it, and even harder not to get bitter about it. But it was impossible. He couldn't change the truth. And he couldn't change the way he felt about it. He'd been betrayed by one of the few people he'd ever trusted, and he couldn't let that go no matter how hard he tried.

He remained still and silent, and watched as the human man walked away. He could never know what he'd done...

***

The restaurant was almost empty. Raphael's eyes darted to anything that moved as he sat in the far corner with Spirit, listening to her life story with feigned interest. The only thing that did catch his ear was the fact that she and Catherine were actually sisters. He guessed that was how she'd pulled this job. He tucked that away for future use and smiled at everything she said. This was going well, actually. Just as long as she didn't expect him to start talking about himself.

"So what's this all about for you?"

He raised an eyebrow, questioning her, and she laughed. "You're so into our work," she pointed out. "You can't tell me it's all about the science for you."

He looked down and stabbed his food. "Isn't it for you?"

She laughed, and hesitated for a moment. "Do you know why Catherine became a scientist?" she asked.

He considered that. "No."

"It was kind of backwards in our family, you know? Usually it's either the oldest or the youngest who gets favored. But not in my family. My mom and dad always played favorites, and I was the one they liked." She took a long drink as she considered that. "I don't really know why," she finally continued. "I guessed because I was smart, and I said from the time I was small that I wanted to be just like Dad."

Raphael was beginning to see what she was saying. "So Catherine was... your older sister?" he guessed.

She nodded. "He tried to convince her to be a scientist or a doctor, but she went for a carreer in teaching. He more or less disowned her after that. After one semester, she quit her job and went back to school."

Raphael shook his head in disbelief. "Just to gain favor with your dad?"

"Well, she said it was because teaching didn't pay enough. But yeah, that's what I think."

Raph studied her. She was getting a kick out of this. She enjoyed the fact that her sister was jealous of her, if in fact she was. "And even then," she chuckled. "She struggled so hard to get through med school. She just hates that it's so easy for me."

"You think it's easy?"

She shrugged. "It's a hell of a lot easier for me than it was for her. I just... _get _science. She didn't. She had to work so hard for it. And now she doesn't really even like the work."

Raphael's ears perked. He could exploit that, he knew. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

"She just... doesn't have the stomach for it. It's like she sympathizes too much with the creatures."

Damn. Why hadn't he seen that before? "Well, that's not _all _bad," he protested. "I mean, it keeps you all from doing anything inhumane."

She chuckled. "Sometimes when you're dedicated to something, you do whatever it takes. She's not dedicated like the rest of us are, and that slows us down."

"Because you can't do things that are inhumane?"

She shrugged. "These aren't _people _we're talking about, John. They're freaks of nature. Animals."

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle at the words. Hate flooded through him in that instant, powerful and undeniable. "You know," he started coldly, "I thought your father kind of disproved that theory when he was able to turn them human with drugs. It's not like his drugs gave them a soul."

She smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Looks like I hit a sore spot."

He looked away and didn't answer, struggling to get his anger under control. Any small part of him that had been _considering _enjoying this time with her was gone instantly. He wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

"It's just that I've never understood how it _wouldn't _be worth it to sacrifice the life of an animal in the name of science when even _human _lives are lost for it."

"So you experiment on humans, too?" he challenged.

"We try new drugs on volunteer patients all the time in the medical field," she explained. "_After _they are tested on animals. But sometimes even then, they have adverse results."

Raphael didn't really care to continue this conversation. But he knew he had to keep up appearances. "I didn't know that," he mumbled.

"Oh John..." He tensed at the patronizing tone. She reached across the table and placed her hand against the side of his face. "I'm sorry. Let's not talk about it anymore, huh?"

"No," he agreed, pulling away. "Let's not."

He already knew all he needed to know.

***

"Nice," Raphael approved as he looked around Spirit's apartment.

"Yeah, it kind of is, isn't it?" she grinned. "You'd be surprised what kind of money they pay me, even as an intern."

He ran his hand over the back of the leather couch. "I guess..."

She eyed him carefully, crossing her arms over her chest. "So... you got someplace to be tonight?" she asked.

He shrugged as he turned to look at her. "Actually, I... kind of wanted to talk to you some more. About the project."

She noded slightly. Interesting. "What about it?"

"You said you... had another one of the mutants."

"Yes, that's right."

"You think there's any chance I'll ever _see _this mutant?" he laughed. "I mean, your teammates don't seem too eager to help me out and I was thinking... you know..."

She grinned knowingly. "...that you want me to take you to go see him?" she suggested.

He shrugged, a lopsided smile on his face. "Yeah, maybe."

She sighed. "Well, I'm going to go in tomorrow," she informed. "Are you going to be there?"

He nodded. "Definately."

"Then it's a date?"

He smiled. "Yeah. A date."

She sighed as she looked away. "Before I take you to go see him," she mumbled. "There's something you should know."

"What's that?" 

She smiled wickedly as she met his stare, and he tensed as he saw her entire demeanor change in an instant. It was if she'd changed from angel to demon in a fraction of a second. 

"I know who you are."


	20. The Enemy

****

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE ENEMY

Please note (if you're interested): 

http://www.angelfire.com/ok5/tmnt/where/ch19.html

****

And a lot happens in this "missing" scene, btw, so you might want to read it for the emotional/plot value even if you wouldn't normally read the sex. It's not all that graphic, and for a reason.

Raphael was still for a moment, not sure of how to respond. "What?"

She smiled. "I said I know," she answered. "I know your him."

"Who's 'him'?" he demanded.

"One of the freaks." 

He stared at her, dumbfounded. How could she know that? He certainly didn't want to admit it, at any rate. "There were two of you," she continued. "My father took pictures. And he told me things. I knew from the start who you were."

Raphael's jaw clenched. It was obvious that she knew, and there was no point in denying it. "So what are you saying?" he demanded.

She smiled. "Don't worry, Raphael. Your secret's safe with me."

He tensed. She even knew his name. He didn't want to think of what else she knew. "You came here for the other one, right?" she continued. "To 'rescue' him?"

Raphael didn't answer. He didn't need to. She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand you. As if we did you some great disservice in making you human."

"You killed my brother," Raphael growled. 

She raised an eyebrow, questioning him. "Interesting," she finally mumbled. "My father said he wasn't taking the change very well, but I never knew that it had killed him. Probably because he didn't have the time he needed to run the necessary tests and find out."

"And now you're going to do the same thing to Donatello, right?" Raph snapped. "Gamble with his life, wondering if he'll live or die like some goddamn lab rat." 

She shrugged, and Raphael felt intense anger surge through him. He wanted to kill her, but he dared not make a move. If she knew, she had one up on him. He couldn't be sure that she hadn't told everyone else?

"What do these experiments prove, anyway?" he demanded. "You know what we are, how we came to be. I told your father all of that. We're no threat to you; we just wanted to be left alone."

"I'm aware of that."

"So _why_?" he asked. "Why keep doing it? I mean, I guess I understand before, when you didn't know. But why take Donatello?"

She sighed. "Raphael, do you know what it was, that was done to you? Do you understand what we did?"

"No," he answered. "And I wouldn't even if you explained it. I don't get science. But I'm sure Donny would like to hear it."

"Well, let me see if I can make it simple for you," she sighed. "A man has a cat who gets outside and contracts a feline cold. Can the cat then give that cold to the human?"

"How the hell should I know?" Raphael shot back. "And why should I care? I'm neither."

"You're right," she smiled. "You're neither. And tell me this, Raphael. In all of the years that you've been neither, throughout your entire life, have you ever been sick?"

That thought struck him. He could remember a number of times, when he was younger, that he'd been sick. "Yes," he answered.

That didn't seem to surprise her. "What kind of sickness?" she asked. "Have you ever had a cold?"

He considered that, and shook his head. "No. Flu."

She smiled. "And I'll bet it didn't last very long. In fact, it probably didn't last more than a few hours because it was probably something you ate."

He wasn't sure how to answer that. He didn't want to admit that she was right. She stepped closer. "Let me tell you something, Raphael. You would have been dead if you were capable of it, when my father injected you with every virus known to man starting with the common cold and ending with AIDS." 

He stared at her, trying to mask his shock. He knew that they had done that to Mike, and figured that's what had killed him. He'd had no idea that he was exposed to everything that his brother was. For a moment, he panicked. Could he have been carrying AIDS for the past fifteen years without knowing it? "But you were immune to it," she continued. "Immune to it all. Your body was shocked by the foreign presence, but the viruses themselves didn't do a thing to you. In time, your body flushed it out. Do you know that? Do you realize what it means? You _are _the cure for AIDS. You _are _the ultimate medicine for every disease known to man.

"So we had to think of how we could apply that. At first we wanted to make people like you. If you look at your DNA, you'll see how we thought this might be possible. So we attempted to _change _your DNA, to find the strain that was different, to try and figure out how to change _human _DNA to match yours. Your body accepted the alteration, while the other rejected it. But you were both gone before we could completely record the results."

"So what do you want with Donny?" he demanded. "You trying it again? The same thing?"

"We haven't yet," she answered. "We were planning on it, but we had something else we wanted to do first."

"What's that?"

She sighed. "Well, we always wanted to see if it could actually produce offspring with a human female. It _was_ possible to alter a fetus's DNA, we realized, and that was part of it. That opened up a whole new door of possibilities in testing the child's immunity. And then you showed up and proved to us that it was quite possible to have a naturally produced crossbreed." 

Raphael's eyes closed slowly. "So you were gonna inject all that shit into Mica, too?" he realized.

"If she is like you, she will not be affected."

"Yeah, and what if she's like her father?" he demanded angrily. "Or better yet, what if she has _no _immunity and you give her AIDS and cancer and shit?" He shook his head. "There's no fucking way you're getting at her."

The doctor shrugged. "I don't care if it's her, or offspring from the one we have now..." She eyed him suspiciously. "Or from you. We need more subjects and we're _going _to get them, one way or another."

It took a moment to contemplate her words. "Me?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I take it you haven't ever given blood before. Guess you wouldn't have a reason to get it tested when you never get sick. But if you had, say, gone to the Red Cross... Your blood is still different. Your DNA was changed enough to make you _look _human. But you're still very much a mutant inside."

He studied her. "You're saying that if I had a child, it would be cross-mutated."

"Yes."

"Well you're wrong," he shot. She eyed him suspiciously. "I _have _a child. He lives with his mother across the country and you'll never see him. But he's very much human."

"Does he get sick?" she asked.

"I wouldn't know," he growled. "I've never met him."

"I'd be willing to bet that he doesn't." 

"And I'd be willing to bet that you're in serious need of therapy," he answered. "This is a _child _you're talking about experimenting on."

She sighed. "That's _my _problem, not yours."

He glared at her. "You're so sick."

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Without a word, he turned to walk away. "I can help you, Raphael."

He stopped. "What makes you think I _need _your help?" he asked, not looking back.

"If you want to get him out alive, you do," she answered. 

That was a threat, and he knew it. He turned around slowly. "Yeah, Spirit," he whispered. "You have the power. The decision whether he lives or dies, it's all in your hands." His eyes narrowed into slits as he watched her reaction. "Until I cut them off of your body and leave you scattered in a million pieces over the Atlantic Ocean."

She walked closer to him and he tensed as she stopped mere inches away. "So kill me," she breathed. He could feel the warmth on his lips. "You won't be any closer to getting him. In fact, you'll be further away. When the police do their investigation on my death... and every finger points to you."

He stood frozen as she licked his lips and smiled seductively at him. "Or you could cooperate with me. And I'll give him to you. Completely unharmed."

He stared at her. Anger burned steadily inside of him, and he choked back the urge to hit her. "What do you want from me?" he demanded coldly.

She rested her hands on his shoulders and pressed close to him. "Stay in his place," she smiled.

He didn't have a chance to fully comprehend that before he realized that she was kissing him. His body tensed as she rubbed against him, and his mind flooded with a million thoughts at once. He pulled away from her, gripping her arms. "For how long?" he demanded.

She smiled. "What if I said for the rest of your life? Is it worth it, Raphael?"

"How long?" he asked again.

"As long as I say," she answered.

"How. _Long_?"

"Long enough for me to run a few simple tests," she breathed, stepping closer. "And a few experiments of my own."

His eyes narrowed as he watched her, considering a dozen scenarios at once. If she knew who he was, his plan wasn't going to work. Suddenly, everything he'd been working for had just blown up in his face. She was asking him to go back to the lab, and he knew that was suicide. But Donny would be out, one way or another, and this would be over. That was the goal. He'd worry about himself later. 

"I'll make a deal with you," he whispered. "You can run your tests on me, but you stop right now anything you're pumping into his body. He gets out alive, regardless of what your tests on me turn up."

She considered that for a moment. "What guarantee do you have that I'll let him go, Raphael?" she challenged.

"Only your word," he mumbled. "The word that you give to me knowing that if you don't live up to it, I'll have nothing to lose. And then I'll kill you."

She watched him closely. It didn't look to her like he was joking. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to press him. "Okay. But one more thing," she whispered.

"What?" he demanded coldly.

She smiled up at him seductively. "Stay the night with me."

He pushed her away. "Like hell."

She laughed. "You want him out alive?" she questioned. "You don't have the _option_ of arguing with me right now."

"What the hell are you on, Spirit?" he demanded. "This some kind of fucking power play for you?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I just think you've got a lot of potential to be a really good lay."

He glared at her. "Are all of you really this sick?" he demanded.

She was unmoved. "Yes or no, Raphael," she shrugged.

He stared at her for a moment, weighing his options. He could kill her where she stood, but that wouldn't bring him any closer to getting Donny out. He could refuse her and she would probably be angry and bitter and do everything she could to make his brother suffer _more_. Or he could give in.

His eyes closed in humiliation as he realized there was really only one option. He was out of time, a lot sooner than he thought he'd be, and his brother's life meant more to him than his dignity. "If I do that," he whispered. "You're gonna give me that child too."

She laughed. "Are we bargaining?"

"Always."

She smiled at him. "You're asking me to put my entire carreer on the line, do you realize that?"

"_You're _asking _me_," he reminded her. "I don't want anything to _do _with you."

She looked him up and down and he tensed under her gaze. She smiled. "You better be one hell of a good fuck, Raphael."

He looked up at her and glared. "Yeah, I'd better," he growled. "Because I gotta pull it off while entertaining thoughts of how I'm gonna kill you when this is over."

***

"Why do you care so much?"

Raphael didn't speak. His fingers brushed back and forth over her skin as he considered all the ways he could answer that. She turned to look at him. "I don't understand you," she whispered. "We gave you everything. Gave you a soul, gave you a life, made you everything you are. We made you a part of society and handed you a chance at being normal. And yet you treat us like the enemy."

His eyes closed, his jaw clenched tightly. "Why?" she demanded after a long silence. "Do you really feel that your life was better as it was? As a freak of nature?"

Anger stirred inside of him and made his muscles tense. His life _was _better before. As much as he hated to admit it, all that he had gained could not make up for what he had lost. All the time that he had grown up, his family was all that he had. Then so suddenly, his whole world fell apart. The pieces had never fit together right again. 

"You're wrong," he whispered, knowing that she would press for an answer until she got one. "But even if you were right, it wasn't worth my brother's life."

"Your brother," she repeated. "You still think of it like that? You still think of it as part of your pack?"

Fury ran through every fiber of his being and he forced his eyes closed. He clenched his teeth and swallowed hard, trying to control his breathing. It. That "it" had been his best friend, his brother, and the one person in the world that he always knew he could talk to. "It" had never judged him, had never forced him to live up to a set of standards. "It" had kept him awake at night when "it" cried, when "it" mourned innocent blood, when "it" stood on the outside of the world and looked in at the people and the life "it" could never have. And as they grew older, as circumstances took their toll on their lives, when "it" blamed "itself" for the death of a close friend, when "it" turned cold and lifeless and nearly died from the grief, it was Raphael who had cried. Now once again, he felt tears burn at the backs of his eyes. 

He forced himself to breath deep, and said nothing. "Why does it hurt you so much?" Spirit asked. "You're no longer a part of that, and yet you still feel like you are." 

She turned onto her side and raised his chin with her fingers, bringing his eyes to hers. "I could help you, Raphael," she breathed. "To let go of that life. You'd be so much happier if you could just let go."

He glared at her. "This is just business, Doctor," he growled. "And let me tell you one thing. I don't care what you do to me. But if you don't live up to your side of the bargain... if he doesn't live through this for _any _reason... I _will _kill you."

She sighed and lay back down on the pillow, pressing close to him. He lay motionless on his back and listened for the telltale signs that she was asleep. He couldn't go anywhere, much as he wanted to. He had to stay here until morning, when she'd probably run a dozen different tests on him. 

He glanced at her as her breathing pattern changed and felt intense hatred burn in him. He felt disgusted and angry. He'd never been so used and manipulated in his life. He felt gross, defiled by what he had just done. 

He slipped out of the bed silently and grabbed his clothes off the floor, heading for the shower. He doubted it was going to help, but he couldn't stand to lay in her bed for another minute. His thoughts played over the events of the past few hours, over and over as the hot water stung his neck and shoulders. It had all been mechanical, like a flashback of a former life. He'd been completely numb. His body reacted to her touch, but he'd felt nothing. Even as he felt her tighten around him, heard her scream him name, realized that he was reacting to the point that he was flowing inside of her... 

He'd felt the entire time as if he were watching from the other side of the room. Was that what it felt like, to be raped? Not that she had done that. There was no way in hell she could've overpowered him, or made him to anything he wasn't willing to. So why did he feel so defiled? Why had he felt so shocked as he watched himself go through the motions he'd been through a thousand times before? Shocked that he was so helpless. Shocked that his body was reacting the way that it was. Shocked that he could subconsciously, without so much as a thought, do everything she wanted. He'd satisfied her. He'd bought his brother's freedom, at least in part. _Damn _her!

Anger burned inside of him. He felt incredibly violated. He wanted to run, to never have to look that woman in the eye again. What hurt even more, and confused him, was the fact that he knew she understood _exactly _what he was feeling. She would have to be _stupid _to think that he loved her. It wasn't about love at all. It was about power. And as much as it humiliated him to admit it, she had power over him. She had his brother, and that was enough to steal his soul. She had her sex and that was enough to steal his body. 

He closed his eyes as the steam rose around him, the hot water pounding hard on his shoulders. He felt indignant tears burn his eyes and he let them come. They mingled with the water and ran over his body, washing away the evidence of her assault. It _was _an assault. When a man held a woman down by her wrists and forced her to have sex against her will, it was called rape. When a woman held a man down by his loyalties and his weaknesses and did the same damn thing, _that _was rape too. The thought sent a whole new wave of emotions through him. How could he allow something like that? But at the same time, he realized that there was absolutely nothing he could have done. His brother was worth more to him than his life.

Shame welled up inside of him, masking the anger, and he was glad that he was alone. He knew he'd get through this. Hell, he'd been through worse in his life. But it didn't make it any easier. He sobbed quietly as his mind raced around and around the same, painful track.

***

Leonardo awoke slowly and sat up in the darkness. Something was wrong. He could feel a familiar tugging deep in his soul. And yet it was so... unfamiliar. He lit the oil lamp beside the bed and stood to his feet hesitantly. Leaving his weapons on the floor - for he was sure there was no danger here - he walked to his bedroom door.

Mica was on the sofa, engrossed in the TV. He glanced at the clock. It was almost one. "Mica?"

She jumped, surprised, and turned around. "You scared me!"

"Sorry," he apologized. "Has Raphael come home yet?"

She shook her head. "I haven't seen him. Last I knew he was going out with some chic named Spirit."

__

Leo couldn't explain it, but somehow that worried him. He turned and walked back into his room, closing the door. He set the lamp down on the floor, then sat down next to it, crossing his legs in front of him. He extinguished the flame and closed his eyes on the darkness. Strangely, he was no longer tired. Sleep had suddenly become the furthest thing from his mind. He felt a burning deep inside of him. An intense emotion that he couldn't put his finger on.

No, it was not just _one _emotion, he realized. It was several. All closely related to each other but distinctly different nonetheless.

_Helplessness._ He saw Michaelangelo and his heart wretched in his chest. He'd been unable to do anything except to watch as his brother's life slipped away. And it had been the same way with Raphael. He would never admit that to anyone else, but he had accepted it himself long ago. He'd been able to do nothing to stop his brother from leaving, from abandoning them. His thoughts drifted to Donatello, but were caught somewhere between the two. Raphael... what could he have felt in those few days surrounding Mike's death? Had that been why he left? And now that he was back, was he trying to make up for that? To pull himself through a rescue that he felt, in some small way, might make up for Michaelangelo's death? _But not to me_, Leo realized. _He's doing this for himself_. At least he was _trying _to. But through the darkness, Leo could hear his brother crying...

_Hurt_. He felt a pain inside of him that was so unfamiliar. Raphael's spirit was strong in this place that his mind had journeyed. He stepped closer, unsure of whether or not he would be welcomed or even acknowledged. He felt heat. A humid heat that seemed to somehow soothe the burning pain. But it wasn't a physical pain. It was a knowledge, a realization that he had reached the end of everything he could do. And a fear that it might not be enough.

_Anger_. He felt emotions breaking down, his own fists clenching as he realized... what? That Donatello was dead? The thought felt unreal: a fear which was itself an emotion, and couldn't support any _other _feelings. No, Donatello was not dead. But Raphael knew something more than Leo did. Something that angered him fiercely.

_Love_. It felt out of place, but it was unmistakeable. It was the kind of love that was unconditional; the kind that brought tears to Leo's eyes as he realized that there was nothing he wouldn't do to see his brother home safely. That same love was one with the spirit before him, and it made him pause. He would not have thought that of someone who had left his family without once looking back. Such unconditional love would never walk away, never turn its back on need. 

_Defilement_. Leonardo was struck by the sudden blow. He didn't understand it. He couldn't even think of how it fit. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He knew his brother well. How could Raphael allow such a thing in his mind? For a man who'd based his entire existence on feeling, how could he allow himself to feel something so terrible? How could he allow any events in his life that would make him feel it?

_Shame_. Shame for allowing those events. Leonardo understood now. It was shame that made him want to crawl inside of himself and disappear. _What did you do, Raphael? _he sighed, not expecting or really even sure he _wanted _an answer. But the answer came anyway, whether from his mind or for his brothers, he was not sure. Either way, it rang true in his soul and he accepted it without question.

_Whatever it took_.


	21. Perfection of Purpose

****

CHAPTER TWENTY

PERFECTION OF PURPOSE

Raphael wasn't asleep when the phone rang, but he pretended to be. He listened hard from his place on the couch, but he couldn't hear. A moment later, he felt a warm hand press to his arm. He tensed and looked up. Spirit was leaning over the back of the couch. "I have good news, and I have bad news," she announced.

He glared at her. "What?" he demanded.

She shifted her weight. "Well, that was Dr. Rossini on the phone. He had a family emergency and needed to make sure I was coming in because otherwise there would be no one there with the subject since Catherine and Paul are both in the Capitol talking to the board this morning."

"And that means what to me?" Raphael demanded.

"It means that we'll have the lab all to ourselves and I can do the testing this morning instead of waiting until tonight like I'd thought I would have to."

"So that's good?" he guessed.

"Yes, that's very good."

"So what's the bad news?"

She sighed as she perched on the arm of the couch. "The baby died last night."

Raphael's eyes slid closed as the words sunk in. "How?" he whispered.

"We don't know yet. We'll perform an autopsy tomorrow and find out. Rossini wouldn't talk over the phone about his condition before he died because of the nature of the information. This whole project is highly classified, you know."

"Yeah, I guessed that," he shot back angrily. He forced his emotions aside and looked up at her. "What about Donny?"

"Donny?"

"My brother."

"Oh," she realized. "He was fine at last check."

Raphael breathed a sigh of relief. 

"How exactly did you plan to get him away from the building?" she asked.

He glared at her. "That supposed to mean I'm on my own getting him out?"

She shrugged. "I'll make sure he's stabalized and show you how to get him out of the building. After that, he's _your _problem."

"Well, I hitchhiked last time," he growled.

She shook her head. "He's not human," she informed him non-chalantly. "Frankly, he's in a lot better condition than you ever were when they were working with you. We're not trying to change him. The only reason I agreed to this was because frankly, we really don't need him anymore. But we _could _use you." 

She stood up and turned away. "Oh, and by the way," she mumbled. "I suggest you make arrangements to get him and yourself out of town because I'm going to tell them you pulled a gun on me. I'm not losing my entire future over this, Raphael."

"I don't care what you tell them," Raphael answered. He stood to his feet. "But I'm getting him out of there _first_," he informed. "Then you can do whatever the hell you want to me."

She shrugged. "That was how I figured we'd do it."

"Then get dressed," he ordered. "I want to leave now."

***

Donatello was alive. Raphael could tell by the monitors beeping steadily. He was hooked up to a dozen different machines, but he was alive. Raphael swallowed hard and watched as Spirit removed the IV and pulled off the sensors. She shut off the monitors and pulled a blanket over the still figure. Raphael still could not speak.

"He's stable," Spirit assured him as she did something underneath the bed/table. "Just unconscious. He should wake up in an hour or so and feel fine."

"He'd better," Raphael threatened, finding his voice. Still, it was much weaker than he'd hoped it would be. 

Spirit only laughed as she folded the blanket over the creature's head and pushed the door open. "I've made arrangements to have him moved to a different lab," she informed. "That's how we're getting him out of here. You're going to attack me as we're driving."

"You did that on your own?" he asked suspiciously.

She glared at him. "Hey, do you want my help or not? Don't question me; let's just do this."

They wheeled him to the elevators, down to the main floor, and out a side door where a white van was ready and waiting. "Thank you, Allen," Spirit smiled as a tall black man opened the back doors of the vehicle. The legs folded underneath the cot, and it slid in easily. The man handed her the keys and she turned them over to Raphael. 

"You can drive," she informed. "I'm not entirely sure where we're going."

He snatched the keys and walked around to the driver's side. She slipped in beside him and remained silent as they drove through the city. They pulled into an alley and she opened the door. "No," he snapped.

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean you're staying here." He opened the door and slid to the ground.

She eyed him suspiciously. "How do I know you'll be back?" she asked.

"Because I said I would be," he answered coldly.

"But how do I _know_?"

"Where am I gonna _go_, Spirit?" he demanded. "He ain't in any condition to be on the run."

She considered that for a moment. "Okay," she finally agreed. "You have five minutes."

"I'll be back in ten," he informed her. "I can't _get _there in five."

He left her in the van and opened the back of it. "Donny? You awake?"

Donatello didn't move. That was fine. He didn't really expect him to. He'd been through this once before.

Walking through the dark tunnels gave him a strange sense of deja vu. Yes, he _had _done this before. He'd walked this exact path, carrying his brother. He'd laid him in this exact spot, and then he'd left. Raphael stood still for a moment and weighed his options. If he had to face Leonardo, he knew he would never leave. Leo wouldn't let him. And he had to go with her. Aside from him having given his word, she was parked dangerously close to the lair. It wouldn't take much for them to find this place. In a week, Donatello might be feeling strong enough to leave. Raphael knew they'd leave as soon as Don was able. They'd run and be safe, as long as no one disturbed them while Donny was recovering.

He could tell Leo what had happened. At that point his brother would probably kill Spirit and think that was the end of it. Maybe it would be. But he couldn't take that risk. He had to buy time. And if they had him, they would be sated. It would give Donny time, and that was what was most important. He didn't go through all this to have his brother not make it for _any _reason.

He knelt next to the still figure and placed a hand on his shoulder. Maybe he'd be back. Maybe he wouldn't. He didn't really know. He knew one thing: he was placing his life in Spirit's hands. And that gave him very little comfort. Still, it would be worth it as long as his brother survived. His whole life he'd hated the fact that he couldn't take Mike's place. But now, he had the chance to step in for Don. And he was going to do it no matter what.

Donatello stirred and Raphael backed away. He had to get away from here. He knew Leo would look for him if he thought he might be nearby, so he didn't signal this time. He took one last look at Donatello, then turned and walked into the darkness.

***

Leonardo looked up as the front door swung open. He glanced up and was on his feet in a fraction of a second. "Donny!"

Donatello leaned against the wall for support, gripping it tightly. Mica flew out of her room as Leo vaulted over the back of the couch. "Oh my god!" she cried, racing to him.

Leo reached him first and quickly slipped underneath his arm, supporting his weight. Donatello swooned, unsteady on his feet. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to walk down the tunnel to the front door. He was dizzy and weak, though quickly regaining consciousness. He remembered who he was first, then where he had been. But he couldn't remember how he'd gotten where he was. He didn't care. He could feel everything inside of him sigh with relief as he realized that he was home. That he was safe.

Mica hugged him and he let go of the wall, knowing Leo would support him if he fell. He slipped his arm around her waist. "Hi Mica," he whispered. "Did you miss me?"

Tears streamed from her eyes as she held him, almost afraid to let go. She was afraid that this was a dream, and that he would be gone when she awoke. She couldn't remember how many of these dreams she'd _had _in the past few weeks. But he was real. She could feel the warmth from his body and hear his labored breathing in her hair. She pulled away and wiped her eyes, looking him over carefully. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slightly, closing his eyes. "I think so."

Leonardo led him carefully over to the couch and he breathed deep as he sat down, leaning his head back. "You wanna lay down?" Leo suggested.

"No," Don answered quietly. He'd been laying down for far too long.

"How did you get here?" Mica asked. She watched as he took a few shallow breaths, but didn't answer. Fear flooded through her. "Donny?" She could hear her own voice shake.

He opened his eyes just barely. "I'm okay..." he breathed. "I feel... okay... Don't worry... I'm just... so tired..."

Leo rested a hand on his shoulder. "You want me to help you to bed?"

Donatello breathed out, but could not answer. He felt himself slipping away into a dark sea of exhaustion. The last thing he felt was a blanket being wrapped around him...

***

Raphael watched as she inserted the IV into the back of his hand. He said nothing. She was talking, but he wasn't paying close enough attention to make sense of her words. He watched the fluid seep down the tube to his arm and she injected something into a small casing near his hand.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep, leaning his head back against the chair. He didn't really know what she was doing to him. At this point, he didn't really care.

His mind wandered as he felt the toxins race through his veins. He'd always wondered about federal execution, and what it would feel like. There were two different ideas: one being that the person would feel panic and pain as his heart stopped, and the other that he would just slip away. Raphael didn't really care which was true. Pain had never scared him, nor had death. He wasn't about to hide from either.

He felt a mask cover his mouth and nose and breathed in drugging air that made him choke and gag. She was killing him. That thought hit him suddenly, but strangely enough, it didn't startle him. For some reason, he didn't really even care. 

He breathed deep, accepting whatever toxins she was giving him. His entire life, he'd been searching for something. A completeness to his life. When he was young, he'd thought that normalicy would complete him. To be human, to live a life above ground. He'd never been happy. And once he had that, somehow, it still wasn't enough. It was only then that he'd realized what had happened. He'd gone everywhere he wanted to go and done everything he wanted to do, but he still hadn't found that missing piece to the puzzle. And he never _would _find it, he knew. Because it was gone. It had died in a lab just like this one, fifteen years ago.

Regrets? Oh, he had plenty of those. Too many to go over in the last few minutes that he could still think. He'd never been in want of a good dose of guilt. It had always been readily available for him. He sighed. There were so many things he wanted to do over, but he knew he never could. 

_A man will spend his entire life striving to fulfil his destiny. _The words came back to him clearly. _Only in his last few moments will he be complete and perfect. For death itself could be the ultimate purpose of a man's life._

He'd heard Splinter say that once. It had always bothered him, to think there were people in the world who were living just to die. To think that he might be one of them. But his brother's death had changed his entire perspective on death. He would've gladly given his life long ago if it could've saved Michaelangelo. But it couldn't. Maybe in those last few minutes, as his brother died, he fulfilled some ultimate destiny that Raphael couldn't fathom. Fate had not allowed him to take his brother's place, because his life was not yet perfected. In the eyes of God, he still had purpose.

Donatello. 

It struck him to think that the last painful fifteen years of his life were lived for this purpose: to give himself in exchange for his brother. It was strangely ironic. He had wanted for so long to find his own worth. Now he understood. As he slipped away, he breathed a sigh of contentment.

He was perfected.

***

Donatello opened his eyes slowly and looked around. Where was he? He was _home_. In the living room. He sat up slowly. His muscles ached, but they obeyed. "Donny?"

He turned and saw Mica walk into the room. "Hey," he greeted. His voice was dry and scratchy. The words burned. 

"How do you feel?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the couch. She pressed a hand to his forehead and he allowed it.

"I'm okay, I think," he rasped. "My throat hurts and I'm sore but... I think I'm alright."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Tea. And Leo."

She smiled. "Okay. Just rest here. I'll be right back."

Don lay back down as she disappeared. He closed his eyes and tried to organize his thoughts. For the first time in he didn't know how long, he could think clearly. He knew one thing: if he'd ever in his life considered the idea that it might be fun to be high or drunk, those thoughts were gone now.

Leonardo appeared before the tea did. Donny could feel himself being watched and he welcomed the familiar spirit to his side. Leo knelt in front of the couch, knowing he'd been seen. "You okay?" he asked.

"I think so."

"Pain?"

"No. Not really."

"We're stocked on painkillers, should you need them."

Donatello smiled faintly. "I'm okay," he assured his brother.

Mica appeared behind the couch and touched Donny's arm. He looked up, then rose as she offered him the tea. "_Arigato gozaimasu_," he thanked her.

She bowed politely. That was one Japanese phrase she knew. "_Do itashimashite_."

She saw Leonardo smile faintly and knew she'd mispronounced something, but he didn't correct her and she didn't ask. Donatello sipped the tea slowly, feeling it burn and at the same time soothe as it ran down his throat. "Donny?" Leo asked. He looked up and met his brother's concerned look. "Where's Raph?"

Donatello chose to ignore that question for the time being. For one thing, he had no answer to it. For another, it brought up a point that was at this time much more crucial. "There's something you need to know," he informed quietly. "About how this all happened."

"What?" Mica asked.

Donny hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the best way to word this. "The man I went to see..." he began. "The man I was talking to when they arrested me..."

"He was Japanese," Leo continued when Don did not. "We saw the security tapes."

"You know him," Donatello whispered. "But I'm not sure you remember him." He took a few breaths as Leo and Mica waited. "His name was Danno Kin."

Leo shook his head. He didn't recognize the name. "Why did you go to meet him?" Mica asked.

Donatello leaned back against the couch. "Because I had to know for sure."

"Know what?"

Don sighed. "You know, blame means so little when you look at the big picture. And yet it's big enough to destroy relationships, even close ones."

Mica and Leonardo glanced at each other, then back at Donatello. "I had to know how they found out. About us." He looked up and met Leo's stare. "I had to know what Mike died for. I had to know who told them."

He closed his eyes and looked away. "We've thought for so long that it was Raph," he continued. "But I had to know for sure. And I never thought I could until I heard from Kin." There was a long pause and he looked up again. "It wasn't Raph, Leo," he finally managed. "It was Yukio."

Leonardo's eyes widened. He hadn't heard that name in well over a decade, but he recognized it immediately. It flooded his mind with memories that he had forgotten. 

__

"You need to control your freak brother! And tell him to keep his goddamn hands off my sister before he ends up killing her!"

Yukio and Raphael were instantly at each other's throats. "I hear you say 'freak' one more time and I'm gonna fucking _take your head off!" Raphael threatened._

"Just try it," Yukio shot back.

Raphael's eyes blazed in anger. "Look, asshole, I don't care who you are or where you learned whatever the hell it is you learned. I may be a mutant, but I'm still Hamato Yoshi's student. First _generation. Trained by the man himself, in a manner of speaking, not his students." He flicked his wrists, twirling the _sais_. Yukio did not move. "Wanna try me?" Raph asked in a low growl. "For real this time. Let's go. Fight to the death. You game?"_

Leonardo felt as if the air had suddenly been squeezed from his lungs. He'd never even _considered _the idea that Yukio was responsible. Fight to the death. The words rang in his ears. Oh, god... He _had _engaged in that fight. What was worse, he'd won. He had won the biggest battle that they had ever fought. And he'd taken Michaelangelo's life. 

Leo was too shocked to speak. Why hadn't he seen that? Why had he just assumed that once he left, Yukio did not live for very long? He'd certainly never thought that he lived long enough to sell them to the scientists. But they never _knew _that he was dead. Leonardo suddenly felt sick to his stomach as he considered a whole new set of emotions that he'd never even considered before.

"Her brother?" Mica whispered. Leo looked up at her. How did she know that? "My mother's? Who hated you? Raph said that he was dead."

"We didn't know that he wasn't," Don mumbled. "But then, we never knew that he was, either. Danno Kin was one of the two _ninjas _who were trying to kill him."

__

"Yukio is not here."

The twin figures spun around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons. Leonardo watched them from a safe distance, he brothers on either side a few steps back. "Who are you?" the ninja_ demanded._

"My name is Leonardo," he answered, stepping forward. He was uneasy, half-expecting a fight but not wanting to engage in one. "We don't wish to fight you."

The ninja studied him for a minute, then slid his katana_ back into its sheath. He bowed slightly. "_Watashi no namae wa Nikko Ken'ichi desu_," he greeted._

Leonardo stepped into the light filtering between the trees and inspected the intruder. "Yukio has left," he informed after a moment of silence. "If you wish to find him, you will have to do it alone."

"By the time they found him, he had a following," Donatello informed. "During a battle, he killed Ken'ichi. Kin fled back to Japan, to find help. And Yukio took that opportunity to go to the scientists."

Leonardo stared in shock. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Why had he not thought of that before? Sudden guilt washed over him as he considered Raphael. For so many years, he'd hated him. For so long, he had blamed him for things that he'd had nothing to do with. He'd been as much a victim as Michaelangelo was.

His eyes were suddenly opened to a whole new dimension of reality. Raphael had loved his brother more than anything, and Leo suddenly knew that. That fact alone stole the breath from his lungs, and made his blood run cold. Raphael would have given anything to take his place. Suddenly, he realized how intense that pain was. All this time, Raphael had lived with the never-ending guilt, with feelings that consumed him with every step he took. It wasn't fair that he had lived and Mike had died. It wasn't fair that he was breathing, and his best friend was gone. 

Leonardo felt that guilt, so much stronger than his own had ever been, wash over him in a slow and steady wave. Every passing second intensified the tight feeling in his chest, burning his eyes with hot, saline tears. And suddenly he knew why Raphael had left, what he was running from. It had never been his family, or his life, or his responsibilities. He was running from Raphael. Running to a new identity that he tried so hard to lose himself in. Trying desperately to get away from himself. He couldn't face who he was, knowing that for whatever reason, fate had chosen to keep him alive and to kill his best friend. So he ran, from himself, from everything he knew and everything he was, as a matter of self-preservation, of escaping immeasurable pain. Leo knew instinctively that if he had stayed, he probably would have committed suicide. The guilt was so strong, the depression so intense... And with Raphael's fierce emotions, it would've consumed him. Leo felt unable to breathe as he considered that.

"Where's...?" He stopped as he choked on his own voice. He was too shocked to speak. Burning tears stung the backs of his eyes as he realized everything at once, and tried to figure out how the pieces fit. "Raphael."

Donatello sighed deeply and closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know."

Leo stood and eyed the front door. He wanted to go find him. Everything inside of him wanted to go find him. But he knew from experience that he never would. How many hours of his life had he spent searching, for each one of his brothers? Why? Why them and not him? Why had he lived? Why had he never even seen these scientists, never felt their needles or the effects of their drugs? Why couldn't _he _take his brothers' places? Why couldn't he have saved Michaelangelo? Why couldn't he save Raphael? He suddenly felt the exact same pain that he knew Raphael had experienced, and he begged an answer from heaven. Why?

His heart beat so fast he felt like it could burst. He walked into his room and closed the door, then leaned against it as he slid to the floor, hearing his shell scrape the wood. Why? Why was he chosen to survive and to stand back watching as the world came tumbling down? Why was he so helpless? His own dispair combined with the feelings that had stirred inside of him as he'd realized Raphael's hidden pain, and he felt swept away.

He struggled to breathe and squeezed his eyes closed. He could feel hot tears burn his cheeks and he instinctively doubled over with his forehead to the floor, begging forgiveness from God and everyone else. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair!

He sobbed openly, not caring if anyone heard him. Agony tore at his emotions and he shook as it registered as an almost physical pain. The tears ran from his eyes and onto the rug. He was broken, overwhelmed. He cried until the tears wouldn't come anymore, and the excruciating pain became a dull ache in his soul. He knew, as he offered one last mournful sob, that that pain would never go away. It would be with him to the day he took his final breath.

He spread out on the floor, lying spread-eagle on his stomach. He wasn't sure he could move. His eyes hurt, his body felt numb, almost dead. He gasped in a breath and felt the tears start again, quietly now. Every last ounce of strength had been spent in his repentance. He lay still, waiting for something. Perhaps it was death, or some hope for life. Whatever he was waiting for, he knew he couldn't get up until he felt it. His body, his soul, felt so dead. And he realized just how dead he had been, all these years.

_Leonardo..._

The voice was almost audible. In this place where he felt and thought nothing, there was no barrier to break through. No consciousness separated him from the pure state of darkness, where he was open and vulnerable to the few people who knew how to reach his soul. He didn't fight it. He couldn't fight it if he'd wanted to, and he knew that. _What? _

He knew the voice. He knew the spirit. He was too weak and tired to feel any relief or think of any of the questions he wanted to ask. There were so many things he wanted to say, but none of them found words. They were all lost in the confused blur of thoughts. _I want you to know something_.

He sighed deeply as he felt tears trickle to the floor. The voice was so weak, the spirit so fragile. From a million miles away, Leonardo could tell he was dying. It didn't surprise him, but it broke his heart all over again. _What's that?_

There was a long pause and for a moment, Leo thought he had lost the link. But he could still feel his brother's presence nearby, as comforting as if he'd been standing right next to him. Kneeling, perhaps, with his hand on his shoulder. A part of him was afraid to be so exposed in Raphael's presence. But a larger part of him knew that he was safe, and that the distant spirit would only bring comfort to him. For that reason, he clung to it. He brought it nearer to his own soul, and submitted everything he was and everything he had to this feeling. The defensive walls dropped, and he lay with his heart wide open in his brother's presence, trusting him completely. _I never meant to walk out on you, Leo_.

The words swept through him, like a warmth through his veins. And at the same time, he felt so very cold. _I know that now_.

_I don't know why I left, but I didn't mean to hurt you._

Leo took a deep breath in and released a quiet sob as he exhaled. _It's okay. _I _know why you left._

Don't be angry anymore, okay? Mica really needs you to be her friend, to stop being the enemy. I know you can do it.

I'm glad one of us does.

There was another long pause. Leo swallowed, and fought for coherent thought. He didn't want to lose this connection. There were things he had to say. He had to find words. He knew he couldn't live with himself if he didn't. _Raphael?_

_Yeah?_

His eyes slid closed again and felt his body shudder. The thoughts faded, and left him alone in the darkness again, with only his brother's presence to guide him. He was so afraid of this, of all that he was feeling, and all that he was realizing. That thought alone sprang to his weakened mind, and he felt tears flow again as he admitted it. _I don't know as I ever would've told you this before but... I'm scared._

He felt an inexplicable calm wash over him, as if Raphael had somehow placed his hand on his soul in the way that a mother would comfort her child with a hand on their shoulder. He choked back the tears, and wished nothing more than to see the face of this spirit. But it wasn't his face anymore. It was someone else. Someone human. This spirit was all that was left of his brother. 

_Don't be afraid, Leo,_ Raphael whispered. So patient. So unlike him. What would have happened, fifteen years ago, if Leonardo had admitted to being afraid? But then, fifteen years ago, Leo never _would _have admitted it. He probably wouldn't have even now if not for the fact that he knew Raphael could see directly into his soul. There was no defense left. Everything had been broken away, and Leo made no attempt to shield himself.

_Everything we had is gone,_ he realized. _It's been gone for a long time but... I guess I hid all of that behind my anger and never really... realized it._

Not everything.

Not everything?

No.

What's left?

There was a long silence. _Leo?_

_Yeah?_

I love you.

His heart broke. He began to sob again, hiding his face in his arm. He hadn't cried like this in years. He had _never _felt pain and grief this intense. _When are you coming home, Raphael?_ he cried, not fighting the tears. He got no response for a long time and he felt hopelessness wash over him. _Are you leaving again? Could you at least say good-bye?_

_That's what I'm doing._

With what little strength he had, he panicked as his fears were confirmed. _No!_

_Leo, don't_, Raphael whispered calmly. _It's okay. I'm ready._

Leonardo struggled to take in a breath. _Come home, Raph,_ he pleaded. _Please come home. Do whatever you have to do._

An almost audible sigh echoed in the silence of the blackness. He felt it whisp over him, and heard the voice return. _I can feel it in my veins, Leo. And I really don't have the strength to fight it._

Leo felt pain stab through him. _No!_

_I miss Mike. And Splinter. I wanna go home, Leo._

_Raph, please!_

_Leo?_

Leonardo was too broken to reply. He could feel the warmth surrounding him begin to fade away and he clung to it desperately. _Don't leave, Raph... Please don't let go. We'll get you out of there! I swear it!_

Tell Mica I'm sorry...

No! You tell her yourself!

And I meant what I said, Leo... His muscles tensed, his heart wretching in his chest. The resolve of his brother's words burned. _I love you._

He could almost feel Raphael's final breath against his face. It reached deep into his soul and stayed there, and the warmth died quickly. Leo turned onto his back and screamed at the ceiling, lost in a pain more intense than anything he'd ever known before. His spirit frantically tried to retrieve the life that was already long gone. The warmth and comfort was gone, and a feeling of loneliness had replaced it. He'd never felt so cold in all his life. His body shook as he turned on his side and instinctively curled into a ball. There were still so many things he needed to say. Things he had put off for far too long.

Why?

Why hadn't he said those things in the fifteen years that he could've tracked his brother down, just as Mica had done? Why hadn't he ever even thought to forgive Raphael in the weeks that he had been here? Why had he waited so long? Why had he allowed him to go, to sacrifice himself? Why hadn't he seen what was happening? There were so many things that he wanted to do differently.

He lay on the floor and let the few tears that remained escape. It was silent, and cold. He felt frozen and exhausted as he closed his eyes. For a long time, he heard only his staggered breathing. Then, a knock at the door. He closed his eyes against it, but felt the light flood the room, chasing away the icy shadows as Donatello stepped inside.

Leo forced himself to sit up, but couldn't make it to his feet. He didn't need to. Donny knelt in front of him, the door still open, and they stared at each other. There were no words. He could feel his brother prod at the emotion, and recoil as he realized the intensity, that it was more than he could take. Leo held his pride for just a moment, then collapsed into his brother.

And together they mourned...

***

__

"Hey Leo?"

He turned on his stomach and rested his head on his arms, trying to get more comfortable. He'd been in bed for over an hour and he still couldn't sleep. Guess Raphael couldn't either. The voice coming from the other bunk, below Michaelangelo, was more than welcome. "Hmm?"

"You think we'll ever, like, split up?"

He opened his eyes and looked over the side of the bed at his brother. He could just barely see him in the faint light coming from the candle. Master Splinter always let the candle burn out on its own. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean like when we grow up," Raph mumbled. "When we get older, like sixteen or something."

Leonardo smiled. "Sixteen's not that old."

"Well, you know what I mean," Raph shrugged, slipping his arms underneath his head.

Leo considered that for a moment. "I dunno," he finally answered. "I don't think so."

Raphael was quiet. "So you think we'll grow up and get old and die here? All together?"

"I wanna stay together."

The unexpected voice startled them both. Leo leaned down over the edge of the bed and looked down at Donatello. "Forever?" Leo questioned.

"Forever's a long time," Raphael mumbled.

Donny turned to his other side to face the open room. "Why would we ever split up?"

Raphael shrugged. "I dunno. Just... because?"

"You mean like if we ran away or something?" Mike interjected. Leo lay back as he realized that all three of his brothers were awake, just like him.

"No, stupid, I mean when we grow up," Raph answered.

"Be nice," Leo warned. "Sensei _doesn't like 'stupid'."_

Raphael smiled, but didn't answer. "I don't think I ever wanna leave," Donatello considered. "I mean, we've only got each other, right?"

"That's what Sensei_ says," Michaelangelo confirmed._

"Yeah, but... there's a whole lot out there, you know?" Raphael considered. "I mean..."

He cut off as the door opened. Master Splinter poked his head in. "Why do I hear voices in here?" he asked. "It is late. You should all be sleeping."

"Sorry, Sensei_," Leo answered. "We were just talking. We'll go to sleep."_

Splinter eyed them for a moment as they all turned away from each other, then closed the door. A tiny gust of chilled air swept through the room and extinguished the candle.


	22. Epilogue

****

EPILOGUE

Spirit walked into the office and held out the file folder. Dr. Catherine Richardson looked up. "Well?" she asked.

"He's dead," the younger woman answered.

Richardson raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"Could've been any one of a thousand different viruses," Spirit answered coldly.

"How long did it take?"

"Thirteen hours. He was comatose within two. It's all documented there," she nodded.

Catherine looked over the papers, her mind racing over other things. He had not been immune. As a human, he possessed the same physical weakness that every other mortal being did. A part of her was sad that he had died, and that they had had to trade their full-blooded mutant specimen for him. But she knew it had been necessary to make that trade. Her father's classified documentation made it perfectly clear that Raphael was not one with which to match force. And there was surely no other way they could have gained his cooperation.

And what had they lost, really? They had plenty of DNA from the mutant, and they still had the living cross mutated child. They had semen from both the turtle and, by Spirit's hand, his transformed brother. Catherine smiled at the young woman's cunning. She had known from the start that he would never give such a thing willingly. She hadn't even considered asking him, or confronting him with the knowledge that she recognized him from the start. The tiny bit of blood on the needle that had given him that initial vaccine was all she had needed to confirm that theory; but she had known even before that.

As Catherine considered how to gain his cooperation, Spirit was already working. It took her less than a week to get him to bed. Perhaps her beauty was on her side; perhaps it was just her mind that had gotten what she wanted. She had played him expertly, like a hand of poker that she had never revealed in even the slightest way. All the time, he thought he was using her. _Ironic_, she thought.

Perhaps in the future, those cryogenically frozen samples of DNA could be used to create a human/mutant crossbreed that would be immune to disease. A new race of superhumans that would live through biological warfare and nuclear fallout. It would take years, that much was certain. But at some point, in the distant future, these experiments would save lives.

Spirit turned and headed for the door. "I'm going to go write up my report," she informed.

Catherine looked up as she reached for the handly. "Dr. Alex?" she asked.

The woman turned and Catherine smiled fondly at her. "The family story was a nice touch. I'm sure both our fathers would be proud."

Spirit smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, doctor."


End file.
